Pretty Ob(li)vious
by msmooseberry
Summary: Lance loves make-up and being pretty while wearing it. He never wanted other cadets at the Galaxy Garrison to find out, especially not his half-Galra crush, but that is exactly what happens. Lance prepares for the hate or ridicule at best, but the reaction he gets is something else entirely. Who knew Galra viewed lilac sparkly lips as a betrothal symbol?
1. Part 1

This was inspired by Gus' (yummygus on twitter) fanart of Lance (and Keith) wearing make-up. Posted it on AO3, now posting here.

* * *

"-not only this foundation has a soft melting texture that blends in perfectly with your skin tone, it also gives you a wonderful satin finish and wears up to twelve vargas. How marvellous is that!"

Lance grinned at the screen, watching genuine excitement shine in the beautiful Altean princess' eyes, his hands working swiftly on his own cleansed and moisturised face. He applied the foundation of the same mark, two tones lighter, with careful dabs of his fingertips and finished almost in time with her, reaching for the compact powder as she continued.

"Now apply a moderate amount of powder on your face to take off the shine and set the foundation. I use this big fluffy brush but you can also use a puff if your compact comes with one, just press it gently into your face to make sure the powder works into the skin."

Lance fiddled with the tiny button on his compact and opened the secret compartment where the puff resided. When he pressed it into the powder, he noted that almost half of it was gone already. He wondered idly how much faster it would go if he were to use it on a daily basis, and not only when he was cooped up in the dorm after his roommate left for the weekend. Not that Hunk would be against his random make-up sessions, at least Lance thought he wouldn't be. He never said anything about his daily skin care rituals, thankfully, but who knew how much a guy could take, and Lance would rather not risk it. One time was enough for him.

"Don't forget to apply some powder on your eye-lids, it will create a nice base for the eye make-up and make blending shadows much easier. But we'll come to that later. And now it's time to give your cheeks some radiance. I'm using this blush called Love Struck, very poetic, isn't it? To get it just right apply the blush lightly on the apples of your cheeks and then put a touch of powder over it. That way the blush will get a perfectly natural quality to it and make your skin glow softly from beneath."

Following the instructions step by step, and making a mental note to look for that particular blush next time he made a field trip to the mall, Lance remembered how he first tried doing make-up. He was twelve and adventurous, so when he sneaked into his older sister's bedroom one afternoon and saw the make up kit she got from their grandparents for her birthday lying open on the bedside table, it simply called to him and he couldn't resist. Lance had always liked using body care products and probably took the longest baths in the family. He enjoyed trying out different shower gels, shampoos and conditioners and even asked his mother to give him face masks. She always agreed, highly amused and thinking, perhaps, that Lance was just copying her and his sister and would grow out of it with time.

Only he didn't, and as soon as he tried doing it once make-up became his second biggest passion, first one being the space. But even if normally his parents were very indulging and allowed him to have any hobby he liked, from water guns to building space ship models, when he paraded into the living room, wearing a thick and a tad too bright layer of his older sister's make-up, stating proudly that he would be the prettiest boy at school, his father gave him a sharp slap on the cheek and a lecture he remembered word by word to this very day. He cried hard that night, hiding in the back yard, because that also wasn't 'how a man is supposed to behave', until his mother found him and explained that while there was nothing wrong with him liking to paint his face, he should better keep it to himself, because it would only make his life more difficult. What Lance himself thought made his life more difficult was that he had to hide it from his own family from then on.

"Now comes my favourite part, eye make-up! Time to get your eyes pretty and sparkling. And I just love everything sparkly, but you probably know it already. Anyway, I happened to find this glorious baked eye shadow palette and was absolutely smitten by its shimmer and how smoothly and easily it applies. On Altea a similar effect can only be achieved with a blend of crushed crystals used for ceremonial purposes, and believe me, it is so heavy on your eyelids it makes them droop and look perpetually unimpressed with any ceremony, which can be very inappropriate during weddings, especially the Galran ones. They may appear very reserved but let me tell you, if there is one thing they are truly passionate about it is tradition. Anyway, what I'm saying is that I am totally packing a whole bag of these shadows with me when I go back home."

Lance chuckled, watching Allura open the palette and talk about her favourite shades so far, her pointed ears peaking from the silvery locks pulled back into a messy but somehow still elegant bun. Maybe it came with being a princess, or maybe it was just Lance, thinking that everything suited her beautifully. Allura was Lance's role model since he saw her on TV at fourteen, when she was giving her first speech upon arrival. Lance always marvelled at the fact that she decided to go to Earth to learn their race's ways, following the Altean tradition, when she had a wide range of other galaxies to choose from. Not to mention how she got into social networks and became an active beauty vlogger and a fashion icon as a result. Allura was never afraid of judgement, and always ready to learn new things, accepting human traditions, however strange they may seem to an Altean, but adding her own view on them and drawing attention to some obvious faults in the human system of values.

"Today I'm feeling a bit blue, so I'm picking this midnight hue that will give you just the right amount of shimmer and a metallic finish, and this pastel blue for highlights. Together they will easily take you from 'pretty' to 'irresistible'."

Lance giggled, remembering that he saw a similar line in one of the fashion magazines he stole from his sisters and read in secret. That was Allura's thing: she often used cliched phrases and spoke with that prim and proper accent, which could've been infuriating were it not so genuine and endearing coming from her. Lance suspected it was a side-effect of her speed-learning the most widespread language on Earth through the media (which got her closer to the masses, as one of the big smart analysts on the net remarked), but he actually liked it because at times the princess changed her intonation or threw in a facial expression that turned her speech from refined to sassy in a bit. Totally a role model.

Lance didn't have the exact same shadows, but fished out of his make-up bag (a hideously boring grey to make it as inconspicuous as possible) a pack of smokey eye mineral shadows, comprised of four shades of blue. They held at least some amount of sparkles so he believed he could manage to pull off a more a less similar look. As he watched Allura applying the shimmery substance to her eyelids, Lance thought how it reminded him of the vast bottomless night sky he loved so much and sneaked out onto the roof of his dorm to do star-gazing when he felt down. What he would give to be able to go to space, and not as a measly cargo pilot but as a member of the Earth fleet, or maybe even part of the delegation to Altea, which Allura joined each time to visit her planet and then return to Earth.

Ever since Altean and Galran space fleet generals decided to have peace negotiations on a neutral habitable planet outside of the systems already engaged in a century long war between Altea and Daibazaal, Earth had never been the same. Most importantly, it didn't get destroyed thanks to the successful peace talks, but became an important landmark for the two alien races, who exposed themselves to humans and established stable lines of communication with the blue planet. It didn't go all that smoothly at the beginning, and that's what brought Galaxy Garrison into existence some seventy years ago. Luckily, the Alteans managed to convince the Earthlings that they meant no harm and would guarantee the planet, which was much inferior to Altea in technology at that time, their protection.

The Galra went further, in a sense, and sent several groups of 'expeditioners' to Earth to integrate with the human society and show that they were willing to leave their people unarmed, which was, apparently, their sign of good will. Of course, it raised protests and rather hot debates, but with time people got used to it to the point where mixed galra-human families started to appear. It could've gone horribly wrong, were it not for an unprecedented technological leap that took Earth by storm and left interplanetary racial conflicts in the shadow. Besides, the number of visiting races grew every year: Earth turned out to be a very life-friendly planet with its variety of climate zones and landscapes, and people ended up accommodating them in exchange for their contribution to the development of the planet.

"Next comes eye-liner, I use this navy liquid one and this white one for lower waterline. I know some of you may feel more comfortable with pencil liners, and you can use them just as well, but if you're feeling up to a liquid eye-liner, here are some tips. To avoid a shaky hand plant your elbow on the table, or whatever flat elevated surface is closest to you, and rest your pinky on the cheek as you go. Also, try putting several dots first and then connect them slowly to get a smooth straight line. Just...like...this. See? It's much easier this way. But if you accidentally do get a smudge, you can easily cover it with a little bit of concealer using a q-tip."

While Lance was no beginner and had made enough messy lines to get the hang of it, he still followed Allura's advice and was very satisfied with the result, grinning at himself in the little round mirror that was propped up on the desk next to the laptop. If only his father could see him right now. Poor old man would totally have a stroke. And to imagine himself getting to class like this, he could hear the hushed snide remarks and giggles that would no doubt follow him wherever he went at the very thought.

It always seemed funny to Lance how society came to be so accepting of the existence of numerous alien races with their respective quirks and weird habits but still looked with scepticism and scorn upon reversing gender roles and choosing your own sexuality. Okay, maybe in the big cities it was not the case any more, but for a small conservative town where Lance grew up straying from old social standards was a big deal. Despite having a big loving family, Lance felt as if he was being strangled by the unspoken rules and norms that loomed over him every time he stepped out of the house. Damn, he felt like an outcast with a guilty conscience inside his own home. Even after his father's chastising lecture, meant to make him see reason and stop 'acting like a girl', Lance wanted to be pretty, and have his skin smooth and cleanly shaved, and wear make-up when he wanted to, and not feel like the whole world was judging him because of it. That's why he was so determined to leave his home-town to study at the Galaxy Garrison, once a military institution and now Earth's main space academy that prepared best space pilots and offered exchange programs with other planets. However, the change of place did nothing to magically boost his confidence (not that Lance let it show in class), and he found himself hiding his true self from everyone once again.

"Now it's time to give your lashes an instant deep drama volume, spectacular length and high definition. All that with the help of this tubing mascara that's nothing like its standard waterproof counterpart but just as long lasting, plus it doesn't smudge and can be easily removed with warm water. Now let me tell you, this is a genius invention, because what we have on Altea is made with xanthorn oil, it takes ages to wash off and really stings bad if it gets in the eyes. And look at the brush, it's so small and curvy. I was also extremely happy to find this pearl coloured mascara when I ran out of mine, but you can choose the colour you prefer, or try experimenting with something new."

Lance reached for his mascara, which was almost dried out and clumped awfully, but he had no other option at the moment. He'd just have to be more careful putting it on to not smudge his make up with the brush. Of course, it's not like he would actually be going anywhere, so it shouldn't matter if he messed it up, but Lance was a perfectionist and derived great pleasure from watching his immaculately painted face in the mirror, not the small one in front of him but the full-length one in the closet. Once he finished he would go open the door and admire his neat work. Even if this look was only for him to see, Lance still felt proud of himself for creating it. He didn't need anyone else's approval, he really didn't.

"All done. Now comes the hardest choice - the lip stick. It still amazes me how handy it is to have a stick of lip-paint, I have no idea why we still only have it in jars. Some of my fellow Alteans would argue and say that these sticks break easily and don't need to be baked after they are applied, also that they don't last as long, but I don't care because I find it much more practical than paint that comes off only when you sprinkle it with acid."

Letting out a little laugh, Lance took out the two lipsticks and two lip glosses he had, wondering which one would fit better. He loved lip products and always carried a chapstick with him for proper moisturising. He applied it when no one was around because naturally 'real men' were tough and would rather prefer their skin to dry out and crack than appear girly. Whatever, Lance wouldn't be kissing any of them in a million years, even if they asked. Okay, maybe he wouldn't mind kissing one. One cool grizzled fighter pilot with a terrible haircut.

"I'm thinking either metal blue Walk in the Clouds or matte white Ice Breaker. I think I'll try them both and see, tell me which one you think suits me most in the comments, or give your own suggestions, you know I love learning from you about wonderful Earth make-up products more than anything."

Lance glanced down at his own options and also decided to try everything he had. First he picked up a hot pink lipstick with tulips on the cap wittily titled Twolips. He didn't have a lip liner, so he rubbed his index finger on the stick, then moved it along the line of his lips, painting them with precision and adding more colour with a careful press of the stick on top of that. He checked out the result in the mirror, but felt like something was missing, so he rubbed off the lipstick with a cotton pad soaked in remover and uncapped the other shade of pink that he had, Coconut Grove, which was more on the lilac side but also had this metallic sheen that Lance found so attractive. He finished in time with Allura, who was adding the final touches to her make-up and beaming at the web camera.

"And it's done! I hope you enjoyed this little tutorial and are now feeling as beautiful as you are, because I know for sure that each of you holds a special kind of beauty that make-up just helps to complement and highlight."

The kind encouraging words gave Lance a fuzzy warm feeling that filled his chest to the brim and was threatening to spill. Allura always made him like this, all elated and emotional. What made it even better was that Lance knew the princess of Altea addressed everyone, no matter the gender. She made it clear in one of her first videos that she admired beauty in all its forms, and expressed interest in make-up because she thought it was a means of bringing that beauty to the fore, mentioning that on Altea men wore make-up just as readily as women did and wondered how the Earthlings lost this tradition almost completely (she did her research and found the second millennium of the human history most fascinating). Lance wondered too.

"I also have a little surprise for you. As you know, I've been inviting my friends to do make overs and create fresh new looks for them. Next time it's Shiro's turn."

At that the tweezers Lance was going to put away fell from his fingers and clattered to the ground. This cannot be true, he must've misheard it somehow.

"Yes, Takashi Shirogane finally agreed to be my guest after some serious coaxing on my part. We've actually been having little make-up sessions for some time already, but you know how shy our dear Hero is."

Allura's voice held very distinct tenderness and Lance could hardly suppress an excited squeal as he realised that she was completely serious about inviting the Takashi Shirogane, Earth's diplomatic hero who was just as ready to fight for peace as he was able to negotiate for it. He graduated from the Garrison five years ago and worked at the Interplanetary Embassy, in the Galra Department, being one of those who organised the campaigns meant to support the mixed marriages and the Galran residents on Earth in general. Shiro had an active blog where he posted about the projects he currently took part in and about his insight into the Galran culture, as he had visited Daibazaal several times already. During one of those diplomatic missions he met Allura and they had been friends ever since. In fact, there were rumours of them being together but no actual proof, even though tabloids went crazy publishing outrageous stories each time the two were spotted together. If Lance was completely honest with himself, he preferred not knowing for sure about the kind of relationship the two had, because he had been crushing on Shiro for as long as he could remember, and as long as his status was still 'single', and thus 'potentially available', Lance could fantasise about them magically hooking up. But now hearing Allura allude to her and Shiro's time together Lance couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy.

'Of course,' he thought bitterly, 'being a princess and a hero helps lots in not being shamed for getting pretty whenever you want.' Then he immediately felt guilty. Both Shiro and Allura were wonderful kind souls and they deserved to be loved and admired, it was just that Lance also wanted the kind of freedom they had. He realised, of course, that it wasn't that easy for them either, coming from different planets and trying to maintain stability and peace between different races. Compared to them Lance's problems were smaller than invisible specs of dust, and yet to him they were still as large as boulders.

"Alright, kittens, see you in a week. Can't wait for next Saturday to come, and what about you? Share your thoughts with me, I'll get back to everyone as usual. Goodbye."

With that the video ended and Allura's smiling face in the last frame shone brightly from the screen. Lance barely noticed that it had grown this dark and went to switch on the light, intent on checking himself out in the big mirror before washing his face and doing an evening mask. He opened the closet and grinned at his reflection.

"Hey there, gorgeous," he flashed it his best seductive smirk and did finger guns. Seeing his long fingers in the mirror made Lance think of Allura's, so much more delicate and thin, with nails done in a pretty shade of turquoise with a violet sheen, the polish called Night Fever if Lance remembered correctly. He wished he could do his nails like that, but he knew that even if he did he'd still have to wipe the polish off all too soon, and the smell of nail polish remover, as well as the polish itself, were really strong and would linger in the room for much longer than he needed. Lance simply couldn't let his secret slip out, the other cadets would make him see hell then, he was sure of it.

That's why when he heard a loud rap at the door he almost shrieked. 'What the hell, Hunk isn't supposed to be back 'til tomorrow evening!' Lance thought frantically, but when the door didn't open as it should have, because Hunk had his card key, he started to hope that, perhaps, someone just got the wrong door. His hope shattered when another rap came, firmer and louder this time. Lance freaked out and did the last thing he wanted.

"Who's there?" it was practically a yell, but he didn't care, he was nervous, alright. Then again, what if there was a fire or something, he would have to get out anyway, make-up or not.

"It's me, Keith," there was a small pause. "I brought the book Hunk lent me yesterday, he said I can leave it with you, uh," another pause. "Larce, right?"

Okay, if there was one person Lance absolutely didn't want to see him like this it was Keith Kogane. The little prodigy in his class with perfect grades and piloting practice scores, who transferred to the Garrison in the middle of the year from one of the Galra colonies on Mars. The guy wore a stupid out-dated mullet and refused to acknowledge that he and Lance were rivals. In fact, Keith refused to acknowledge Lance period, which kinda hurt because even if Lance was reluctant to admit it even to himself, he actually thought Keith was cool, and hot, and downright gorgeous with his sharp cheekbones and expressive grey-blue eyes which Lance could swear sometimes flashed yellow. And the way he moved when he brought down student after student in their sparring sessions during PE, Lance wished he would get paired with Keith for once just to get the feel of his well-defined muscles. He knew, of course, that he wouldn't stand a chance against Keith but he wouldn't mind being pinned down by him either. Not that he'd ever say that out loud.

"You there?" right, back to the problem at hand. And what the hell did he call him?

"It's Lance!" okay, maybe that was a bit too loud, and now he was coming off as a downright hysterical person. God, this was embarrassing and he was making it worse by the second. He needed to fix this before it was too late and Keith thought he was a total nut case.

"Um, right, Lance. Will you take the book then?" Keith sounded as uncomfortable as Lance felt at the moment. He was torn between just opening the door wide enough to get the damned book through the crack or sending Keith away by coming up with a ridiculous excuse along the lines of 'I'm not properly dressed right now'. Then again, maybe it could work with Keith, who knew what Galra thought about seeing each other naked, it could be an everyday practice for their community for all he knew. Alright, Keith was only half-Galra but still.

"S-sure, wait a sec," Lance cursed himself inwardly for that little stammer. 'What do I do, what do I do,' he looked around, searching for something that would miraculously save him from the imminent embarrassment, and just as he was about to give up and maybe try escaping through the window (from the third floor, ha) his eyes fell on the towel lying crumpled on his bed. It was still damp from the shower he had taken earlier in the evening and Lance grabbed it like his life depended on it. Not wasting any more precious time he draped the fluffy white cotton over his head, making sure it covered most of his face, and was almost at the door when it dawned on him that half of his beauty products still lay scattered in plain sight on his desk.

"Shit," Lance cursed under his breath and scrambled to shovel them all in the bag, knocking down the mirror in the process and making it fall to the floor with a loud clatter.

"You alright there, Lance?" came Keith's uncertain voice from behind the door and Lance automagically whipped his head in that direction to shout a quick "Yeah, totes!" which, however, cost him his bottle of make-up remover that toppled over after one particularly uncoordinated swipe while he was looking away. And because the universe apparently loved him so much, the cap on the damned bottle was screwed loosely enough for the pinkish liquid to splash all over the front of his white tee.

"Oh you gotta be kidding me!" Lance almost whined, inspecting the damage. Some of the flowery-smelling liquid got on his navy sleeping pants as well but the stain on the front of his shirt was what concerned Lance the most. It'd just have to go. Anyway, he was supposed to be straight out of shower with the whole towel cover-up, so him shirtless would at least be credible. With that thought in mind Lance yanked the tee off himself and straightening the towel on his head rushed to finally open the door.

"Hey, I just got out of shower and was going to dry my hair so, uh, sorry for the wait," the words started tumbling out of his mouth as soon as Lance heard the electric lock give a soft beep and the panel started sliding to the side to reveal his late night visitor. Oh how Lance wished he was here for an entirely different reason, because the whole scenario right now, taking away the actual context, looked a whole lot like something from his mother's cheesy romantic novels (he read those in secret too). Only, perhaps, involving more eye-to-eye contact, which Lance was avoiding like fire by keeping his head low and staring at Keith's torso and hands. Very nice hands, if you asked him, with long pale fingers and neatly cut nails – something a bit unusual for a guy but still pleasant to look at. Like the rest of him.

"Yeah, right, uh," Keith sounded unsure but held out the book he was clutching in the aforementioned nice hands nonetheless. "Here, the book," he added awkwardly and Lance was about to reach out and take it, like a normal human being would, but stopped abruptly as he spotted a streak of glittery blue powder on his forearm. Lance covered a horrified gasp that escaped him at the sight with a small cough and a sniff and hurriedly placed the already outstretched hand on his head, as if he was afraid the towel would slip. He held it there, making a show of drying his hair with short jerky rubs.

"Great, why don't you just drop it somewhere among Hunk's stuff," Lance had no idea what he was doing at this point any more, he just knew Keith absolutely couldn't see neither his face, nor his hands. And that's exactly why he invited him in. Neat.

"His stuff?" Keith sounded so genuinely lost Lance could barely fight the urge to look up at his face to see the expression. Instead he side stepped, letting Keith enter and hunched in on himself a little more, making an awkward nod towards Hunk's desk while carefully retreating to his closet.

"Yep, over there," Lance opened the door again, glancing in the full-length mirror and catching a glimpse of Keith's lean figure, his sufficiently broad shoulders and his perfectly trim waist as he moved across the room in a few strides, depositing the book on top of a pile of Hunk's other manuals. Just as he was turning around, Lance ducked down and pretended to be searching for something on one of the lower shelves, feeling the towel slip a little on his head.

"Done," he heard Keith saying, but no footsteps indicating that he was leaving. Lance hummed in acknowledgement, praying for the boy to just go, yet he faltered for some reason. "I'll, uh," Keith paused, "I guess I'll be on my way then," Lance grunted in response once again and continued his fake search, all the while struggling to catch any sound above that of his own heart, hammering madly in his chest. For a couple more seconds there was none and then, finally, after a soft "Okay" Keith slowly went to the door and Lance heard it slide twice, first open, then shut.

Lance fell back on his butt and let out a long relieved sigh, throwing his head back and letting the towel pool down around his shoulders. His secret was safe, thank God.

"Phew, that was close," he muttered at the ceiling, feeling his heart rate gradually slow down to a normal pace. He really lucked out on this one. Just to think what would happen if Keith, his reluctant crush (like, he didn't choose to be so ridiculously attracted to the half-Galra, no way), was to catch him red-handed. Lance was one hundred and one percent certain he'd never hear the end of it. Probably would even have to leave the Garrison to escape the shame. But not today.

As he scrambled up to a sitting position Lance suddenly spotted the tweezers he had dropped after hearing about Shiro's future cameo on Allura's vlog. They were lying peacefully under the chair, completely oblivious to the drama that had almost transpired in the room. Lance huffed and got on his knees, crawling the short distance to grab the metal object, when the door swished open.

"Listen, I just wanted to ask if you'd like to-"

Lance froze.

Actually, he was pretty sure the whole world froze right at that moment. It was Keith. Keith was back in his room. Because it took the freaking door about two minutes to lock automatically. So now he was staring at Lance, who was down on his knees, facing him, with just a towel around his shoulders. Shit. The towel. Realisation hit Lance like a truck and set him into motion.

"I c- I can explain!" he literally yelled at Keith, trying to stand, but tripping and almost falling face first onto the floor. "I-," almost, because all of a sudden strong arms were being wrapped around his shoulders, steadying him and helping him up. Lance blinked in confusion and looked up at Keith. Who was decidedly Way Too Close now that he still held Lance around the waist and peered with strange intensity right into his eyes.

"You're stunning," Lance couldn't help but gape at Keith for a moment. What. His shocked expression must've been rather impressive because Keith immediately let go of him and even made a little step back, looking nervous and fidgeting a bit. "I mean... This is, I never knew you were-," Keith was obviously struggling and Lance took pity on him.

"A weirdo?" he prompted. Well, that would be a milder version of what people at his home town might call him if they ever found out.

"What- No!" Keith clenched his fists and looked positively ready to fight someone. Hopefully, not Lance. "I mean, I never knew you were already promised to another," and with that Lance could swear he heard gears in his brain screech to a halt. What was this guy going on about?

"Wait, hold your horses, you-"

"I should leave, I didn't mean to disgrace you like that, I'm-," Keith was backing towards the door, pointedly not looking at Lance now and almost tripping himself.

"No, it's not what you-"

"I just wanted to say," Keith was out of the room now and looking down the corridor, but still obviously addressing Lance, "that your chosen mate is the luckiest in this galaxy." And then he left. Just like that.

Lance stood stock still long enough for the door to slide back shut on its own, hearing Keith's parting words in his mind on repeat. Promised? Disgrace him? Chosen mate? What on Earth-?

The lock beeped and the door opened yet again.

"Lance, man, you awake? Shay called me to help her with a project and I barely managed to hop on the last bus. Can you imagine, she actually called instead of just texting or-"

Hunk caught sight of him and trailed off, staring, and to be honest? Lance didn't think he cared that much about being found out any more. Not second time in a row anyway.


	2. Part 2

More misunderstandings, confusion and second-hand embarrassment up ahead. Enjoy.

* * *

"Sooo, you and make-up, huh?" Hunk sat in the chair at his desk, its back squeaking when he reclined as if to make a point of its own.

"Yeah, that's the thing," Lance offered unenthusiastically, still avoiding his roommate's eyes. After getting up from the floor and quickly snatching a clean shirt from the closet, he pulled it on and now sat on his narrow bunk, clutching a pillow to his chest for comfort.

"Just so you know, I'm cool with that," Hunk said simply, and Lance blinked at him in surprise.

"You are?" the earlier encounter with Keith must've really drained him, and in different circumstances he would've probably squealed with delight and relief, but as he was at the moment he could only master a slow uncertain smile.

"Yeah, I mean, you're really good at it, man," Hunk beamed back at him full-force and Lance suddenly felt his bottom lip quiver. "Hey, I'm telling you, it's cool. Come on, no crying on my watch," he stood and made his way to Lance's bed, sitting carefully on the edge.

"Oh, I'm not, I just," Lance rarely fumbled with his words, but to express the amount of gratitude he was feeling for his friend right now was too difficult. "Thanks. You're the first to tell me that and it- It means a lot, really."

"No problem," Hunk rubbed the back of his head and smiled an easy smile that made Lance feel much better about himself and the whole situation. His hand rose to his face to wipe away the unbidden tears on impulse, but he stopped himself in time. No need to stain his body with make-up products more than he already had. Speaking of which...

"Uh, Hunk, buddy, tell me, how come Keith borrowed your book?" Lance glanced at the powder still sparkling on his forearm and smeared it with a finger.

"What book?" Hunk looked perplexed and Lance was going to point at the top of the stack on his desk, but Hunk suddenly furrowed his brows. "Wait, you mean Keith, as in half-Galra exchange student top of the class fighter pilot Keith?" Lance silently marvelled at how he managed to say that in one breath.

"Yeah, like, how many Keiths you know?"

"Riiight," Hunk kept staring at him like he grew a second head or something. "Um, well, I'd say none, cause if you remember, I'm an engineer, not a pilot, and the only class I share with you two this term is PE."

"Yeah, I remember, what does it have to do with-"

"Lance," he interrupted, making a pause for dramatic effect, as if Lance wasn't high-strung and uneasy enough already, "We don't need any textbooks to run laps and exercise." Lance blinked.

"Oh," was all he managed, glancing back and forth between Hunk and the book that lay among others on the desk, now a glaring intruder. "So you're saying..."

"He never borrowed anything from me," Hunk shook his head. "I doubt he ever spoke two words with me, and we've never been paired for sparring sessions, thank God. I don't know what Galra eat but Keith must've had a tad too much, did you see him throw Ryan last week like he weighed nothing?" Hunk was lost in the vivid memory and thus didn't notice the blank look Lance had on his normally expressive face.

'No, it couldn't be,' a lone thought rang in his mind as he climbed off the bed, throwing aside the pillow and stepping towards the desk with determination. He snatched up the book and flipped it open at a random page. Weird curvy alien symbols stared back at him, definitely mocking him. Alien Galran symbols. There was simply no way the book could be Hunk's.

Lance shut it and studied the cover, which stated perfectly in English 'Advanced Aerodynamics', but right there under the large bold title were the same curvy symbols, tiny and conveniently inconspicuous, probably indicating that it was all in Galran.

"Hey, how did that get in here?" Hunk peered over his shoulder at the foreign book.

"Keith brought it," Lance stated plainly, his mind still reeling, "to give back to you."

"Huh?" Hunk was genuinely at a loss and Lance told him in not too many words the epic tale of Keith arriving at their doorstep and him revealing his darkest secret in the least graceful fashion.

"... he didn't even let me explain, just spurted a bunch of nonsense and left. I mean, I thought it was just an accident, an series of unfortunate events, but now! Do you think he planned this in advance? Maybe he suspected something all along and just wanted to catch me in the act?" Lance desperately needed answers, and the longer he thought about what had happened, the more terrifying theories he was coming up with.

"Well, I guess that is a bit fishy but-,"

"Oh god, what if he sided with those assholes from the football team and they are spreading rumours already! My life will become hell, all because of that stupid plotting mullet! And to think I had a crush on h-," Lance cut himself off, cupping a hand to his big babbling mouth, but it was too late, the words had come out loud and clear. His eyes were filled with dread as he slowly turned to face Hunk, who had his arms crossed over his chest and a pensive expression on his face.

"Oh, I kinda figured," Lance gaped at him. "It wasn't that hard with the starry eyes you were giving him every time he knocked someone off their feet during practice."

"What! I did no such thing, it was just-," Lance sputtered, but Hunk rose a hand to silence him and shook his head.

"Yes, you did, don't deny it. And I don't mind that either," he smiled at Lance encouragingly, then furrowed his brows in thought once again. "I wonder what that was all about though, him lying about the book, a book in Galran no less."

"I wish I knew," Lance mumbled, scrubbing his hands over his prettily painted face in exasperation, he didn't care about ruining it any more. "I've gotta go wash this off," he said tiredly and headed for the tiny bathroom they were lucky to have in their room.

"Hey, Lance," Hunk called out when he was about to shut the door behind him. "Don't stress about it, whatever Keith was up to, we'll sort it out."

"Okay. Thanks," Lance smiled gratefully and giggled softly at the thumbs-up Hunk gave him.

As he was rubbing lotion into his face a few minutes later Lance couldn't shake off the feeling that he was missing something. He was working on his chin, fingers moving in small circles, when Allura's words from the latest video suddenly popped up in his head. "If there is one thing they are truly passionate about it is tradition," she said, talking about the Galra.

'Is it a Galran tradition to lie about knowing people and borrowing their stuff,' Lance mused, scooping a generous amount of moisturising night cream and spreading it over his cleansed skin.

'And what was that gibberish about mates and being promised to someone? Maybe it was just some tricky Galran slang?' the cooling effect of the cream did little to soothe him, because Lance's head literally felt aflame with all the thoughts madly circling around. He just didn't understand Keith's reaction, and what he said before running out of the room. Was he repulsed, confused or just wanted nothing to do with Lance ever again?

"Damn Galra and their weird ways," he huffed to himself, more out of frustration than out of spite, and proceeded to rub the cream down his neck, taking solace in its perfectly smooth surface. He didn't grow much facial hair, but always made sure to shave off every tiny hair that sprouted where he didn't want it to.

Distracted with the repetitive motions of his fingers Lance thought of Keith's hair and its thickness. He wondered idly if it was soft or coarse to the touch and whether Keith would like it if someone pulled on that disastrous mullet of his. Today was the first time they stood so close to one another, and now that the stress of the unexpected encounter had ebbed away Lance could recall the fine layer of black hair covering Keith's forearms. He guessed he never shaved them, probably never even considered it necessary like Lance did. Strangely, Lance didn't feel irritated at the thought, but rather wondered how much hair Keith had in other places, like his firm chest that was practically bursting from that tight black shirt he had on today.

'I wouldn't mind getting a glimpse of it, and his happy trail too,' Lance caught himself thinking and jerked his head around, suddenly anxious somebody could get a glimpse of his dirty mind.

"Okaaay, enough for today," he mumbled and after throwing his guilty reflection a chastising look, exited the bathroom. He could deal with it tomorrow when his head was clear.

"Don't tell me you've been sitting there since I left," was the first thing Hunk said when he returned to their room after a study session with Shay. His tone was so flat it wasn't even a question.

"Well, duh," Lance didn't turn away from his computer and clicked and scrolled through the pages as he spoke, "While you were busy brain-wooing your sweet Balmeran heartthrob-"

"Shay's not my heart-!"

"Yeah, right. So. As I was saying, while you were lending your helping hand elsewhere I did my own research," at this he finally spun around and faced Hunk, crossing his arms over his chest. He guessed his sour expression told Hunk all he needed to know about the results of the said 'research', but his friend still felt the need to ask.

"Sooo, you found anything good?" Lance grimaced.

"Loads, actually, just not about Keith's weird stunt."

Once he was wide awake and remembered his embarrassing and very much involuntary coming out the other night Lance decided to do the only right thing in this situation. And no, it wasn't going out of the room and finding Keith to talk it out like two mature human, or half-human, beings. It was quite the opposite, namely going on the Internet to look up all possibly relevant information about the Galra and their obscure culture.

He started out simple, typing in "10 things you need to know about Galra to not get in awkward situations", but apparently there was a lot more one needed to know because the top result was a link to the Galra-Human Code of Conduct. Intrigued, Lance clicked on it, hoping to get answers to all his questions, but was quickly disappointed to find pages and pages of legal text that covered pretty much anything except teenage Galra lying their way into unsuspecting peers' dorm rooms.

Then he decided to be more specific and tried "how to know a Galra has one against you", then "does half-Galra mean half-mean or double-mean". When this gave him nothing except a dozen accounts of some shady activist group's trials (seriously, who decided to give membership based on your body count) and a brief history of the Galra colonies in the Earth's solar system, Lance realised he had to look at the larger picture first. So he typed in "weird Galra traditions", and oh boy did it get him some really confusing and at times disturbing info. He cringed, remembering some of it.

"Hey, did you know Galra still have this coming-of-age thing when they send guys out into space, give them a list of planets as check points and let them fend for themselves for two months?"

"Wow, that sounds tough," Hunk pulled up his own chair and sat next to Lance.

"And you know what age they think is just right to go through this thing? Fifteen!" Lance pushed away from the desk and made an emphatic spin. "Dude I could barely survive a dinner at abuela's when I was fifteen, I had to literally fight off a dozen siblings to get a plateful, imagine fighting off some crazy alien monsters for two whole months!"

"That extraterrestrial flora and fauna course really got to you, didn't it," Hunk chuckled but shifted a little uncomfortably, probably remembering the lecture on Weblums they had, with pictures and a century old recordings. He almost didn't make it to the restroom to throw up afterwards. "Anyway, you think Keith had to do all this stuff?"

"I wouldn't be surprised. If he did, our training should feel like a walk in the park to him. Also, check this out," he scrolled through the site purposefully and Hunk had to lean in to get a better look at the small screen. Lance's laptop was what some would call antique, passed down from his father who had got it from his father who had bought it somewhere in the 2020s. Hunk offered to build him a holoscreen from the spare parts he and Pidge often tinkered with, but Lance declined, saying he liked the idea of looking up make-up tutorials on the little old-fashioned thing his father believed he was using strictly for studying purposes. Well, reading up on his alien crush's culture counted as studying in Lance's book alright.

"Here, look," Lance double clicked and Hunk couldn't help but cringe a little at the force he used on his ancient mouse. "That's some 'exclusive' footage from their last Kral Zera three years back-"

"Kral what?"

"Oh, it's like presidential election and inauguration ceremony rolled into one. But," and here Lance hit the 'Enter' button so hard Hunk feared it might just pop out; instead a video started playing, "they go from the Olympics opening ceremony straight to the Gladiator with laser guns and explosives in, like, five minutes."

Hunk squinted at the screen. The video was shaky, shot from a very awkward angle and from afar. It also appeared to be muted, or it was just Lance forgetting to unplug his earphones (another outdated contraption he insisted on using). Still, he managed to make out a pretty recognisable figure. "Hey, isn't that Emperor Lotor there, with the fabulous hair?"

"Yep," Lance nodded urging him to keep watching.

"Hah, he's really carrying a torch. And what's with that dude's outfit, is that a ca- Wha- Whoa! That escalated quickly," the screen was now flashing with bursts of flames that were swinging wildly as the camera-holder moved away to avoid getting hit but continued filming anyway. Lance paused the video, the action freezing on a heavily armoured Galra about to be annihilated with a huge blast coming his way.

"It's like they are born to be excessively volatile," he sighed.

"Well, I don't know, it's just an old tradition, and it's not like Keith resorts to violence at any given chance. I guess. Man, I hope he doesn't," Hunk looked troubled now.

"I'm not saying he does, but he was raised on this, probably watched it live huddled with his Galra buddies on the coach."

"Uh, yeah but if what you said about that Galra coming-of-age thing is true then he was deep in space at that time. You know, coming of age and stuff," Lance looked at him with an unimpressed scowl and Hunk rubbed his hands with a bashful grin, "Right, yeah, no. Not my point. What I wanna say is, Keith being Galra doesn't mean he will automatically share all of their views and traditions, he's got his own head on his shoulders. Plus, he's only half-Galra so at least one of his parents should be human. And didn't you say he grew up in a colony on Mars, from what I heard there are half as many humans living there as there are Galra, surely he had some positive, non-life-threatening influence throughout his childhood."

"Tell me that again when he challenges me to a duel or something," Lance huffed out stubbornly, picking at the cord of his table lamp.

"A duel, seriously."

"What, trial by combat is still an ongoing practice in courts on Daibazaal, I read this article where-"

"Lance," Hunk's tone made no room for arguments and he looked up with a defeated expression. "I'm sure it won't ever come to that, believe me. From what he told you about promises and happiness it seems to me he was just trying to be nice, or wishing you luck in the future, perhaps," Hunk sounded like he wanted to believe his own words but hadn't quiet got to that point himself. Lance didn't judge him. It was all so confusing.

"Maybe, I mean, I wish it was really that simple but- You've no idea if Galra can be, you know," he gestured vaguely to himself, but Hunk only cocked his head in confusion. "Um, open-minded? About stuff?" He didn't know if he was ready to say it out loud, even if Hunk already knew.

"Oh, you mean about- Right," he must've sensed Lance's uneasiness and let it slide, bless his soul. "Well if you ask me, I bet they don't really mind, cause have you seen Emperor Lotor?"

"I sure have," Lance smirked a little.

"Those fancy outfits, that poise, that hair," Hunk continued, wagging his eyebrows now, and Lance started giggling despite himself.

"You should've seen him hip throw a Galra twice his size just before he came out victorious," he sighed a bit dreamily.

"You have a type, don't you?"

"Wha- No, I don't!" Lance could swear he wasn't blushing. Only maybe he was. Just a little.

Sunday wasted on the Galra Weirdness Quest did little to prepare him to face Keith next week. They shared a few classes and the possibility that they might be forced to work together only made it scarier. On top of that, Lance wasn't too avid to find out if Keith had told others about his unconventional hobby. So he might have faked a bad cough and got a sick note from the nurse on Monday. The old lady was sceptical about it but his pale face and trembling voice (all result of the nerves) must've been enough to convince her.

This got him through Monday without incidents because he spent the day hiding in his room like a coward and begging Hunk to bring him something from the canteen to eat besides snacks. On Tuesday, however, they had a chemistry practical and if he didn't show up at the lab he was risking to fail the class. Anxiety or not, he had to go.

As it turned out, Keith didn't have the same inhibitions because even if it was one of the classes they had together, he wasn't there when Lance arrived. However, just as he thought he had lucked out for the day he got paired with James Griffin.

Now don't get him wrong, he didn't hate the guy. In fact, James was a pretty decent fellow, it was just that he had this mean streak about him which, Lance suspected, together with a fairly short temper spoke volumes about how he would likely react if he ever found out about Lance's secret or anything equally conflicting. Lance could easily see him casually throwing jeers and jabs at him, and not even out of some sort of malice but just because he didn't, wouldn't understand.

Of course, all that could be only Lance's tendency to overthink, but he couldn't help it, especially in the light of recent events.

Anyway, half of the experiment went without a hitch, the two of them working peacefully, except maybe for one or two of James' remarks to "watch it" and "make sure to stir this slowly, McClain, or so help me", oh and to "concentrate already or just let me handle it". And, well, Lance could guess where his lab partner's nervous irritation came from.

Last semester they were sent on a camping trip slash survival skills check-up and they were made to work in teams of three. Lance's team consisted of him, James and Ryan, and, to make a long story short, Lance was lucky to have the tall level-headed man out there in the desert with them, or they would've definitely failed because of Lance's constant fuck-ups and James' frustrated tantrums. Lance hated to admit it, but half of the times James had all the right to be mad at him, like that one time he was responsible for putting up a tent and hadn't tightened the ropes properly so the whole thing crashed on them in the middle of the night.

Ever since that trip things between them were kinda tense. Not bad exactly, but not anywhere near friendly either. That's why Lance was so apprehensive about them working together, and halfway into the class he realised he had a good reason to be. Something wasn't going right, their reaction mixture was looking nothing like the one they had seen during demonstration. James was starting to look twitchy and Lance felt he was doing his best not to start blaming him for a fault they'd obviously made along the way.

And as his ill fate would have it, it was in that moment that the door to the lab slid open and Keith went in, bowing curtly at the prof as was his Galra custom and extracting some kind of note from his backpack. Lance froze with a volumetric flask clutched tightly in his hand, watching Keith scan the room, probably looking for a group to join.

Then their eyes met and in a beat where Lance just stared at him like a deer caught in headlights Keith's face suddenly changed from neutrally focused to shocked and almost angry. The shift was so instant and so obvious it made Lance flinch involuntarily, which was a big mistake because his hand, inconveniently damp and trembling, lost its grip in the thin glass vial and it shattered right onto the table, splashing everything on it, and even getting on his coat and burning right trough.

The noise drew everybody's attention and once they realised what had happened there were worried gasps and shouts, and wild gesturing to the now steaming tabletop. The one who was shouting the loudest was their professor, trying to calm the students down and reach James and Lance to assess the damage and take necessary precautions.

After that everything went in a blur. Lance got his ear chewed out for disregarding safety measures while being ushered to the nurse's office as a few drops of the faulty solution had burned his left arm. There the nurse treated his light wound, chiding him and saying that he probably should've stayed in bed and treated his "bad cough" instead of going out there and mixing dangerous reactants. And damn, Lance totally agreed. The day was a disaster.

On Wednesday, thankfully, fighter pilots trained separately out on the grounds and Lance had some room to breathe, knowing that he wouldn't randomly run into Keith in the hallways. At least until lunch. And that was exactly where he was headed.

He and Hunk agreed to meet Pidge at the canteen to eat at their self-proclaimed table and catch up. Even though Lance barely saw her on a regular basis they became friends through Hunk. The two often hang out together, making and taking apart complicated mechanisms, and discussed it all in what was complete gibberish to Lance's ears. But he and Pidge also had some things in common that they managed to bond over, like retro video games that needed a technological miracle to get to work on any state of the art computer. Or early 2000s films with cheap special effects that were so bad you dint know what you wanted to do more - laugh or cry. Oh and gossip.

Every time the three of them had lunch Lance and Pidge started by exchanging news and rumours they accumulated in the time apart. Seriously, Pidge was like an intel warlord, she always had the juiciest stories up her sleeve and seemed to know everything about everyone. As for Lance, he liked offering his own insight or making up wild theories about people's reasoning. What could he say, he had a vivid imagination.

Hunk didn't approve of their little tradition, saying that discussing other people's business behind their backs was not nice. But he listened to them nonetheless, gasping "no way"s and "really"s too many times to be truly against it. He didn't usually offer any gossip himself though, and that was why his sudden question startled Lance so much he almost choked on his juice.

"Hey, Pidge, you heard anything about Keith? You know, half-Galra fighter pilot?" his tone was light but Lance knew better and sent him a what-the-fuck-are-you-doing-man glare across the table. But Hunk ignored him.

"Kogane Keith?" Pidge looked up from her pasta, clearly surprised Hunk asked about someone in such a straight-forward way. Last time he was curious about Shay he kept beating about for ten minutes before finally getting to the point. "Yeah, I mean, who hasn't, he's like a superstar here, beats every record set by the best pilots who ever studied at the Academy, even back in the day when it was all military. Says something about the Galra training program, right? He's not so great at languages and social studies, I saw him struggle at Montgomery's seminar last week, it was hilarious-,"

"Bad at communication, huh?" Hunk visibly perked up at that and Lance was now silently praying he wasn't going to tell her everything about what had happened. Everything about him. He was so tense he felt like a string ready to snap. "Okay, so, tell me, what do you think he'd do- Hypothetically, if he had something against one of the students?"

Lance pointedly didn't look at any of them, choosing to tear up a napkin and suddenly very engrossed in the way one layer of pressed tissue separated from the other as he pulled.

"What do you mean? If somebody pissed him off or something?"

"Yeah, like, would he go plotting to get them in trouble?" Lance mentally tried to shrink while listening to every word with rapt interest.

"Plotting? Hah, no I doubt that. From what I heard he's got a short temper and is more about actions than words, if someone messed with him he'd likely just knock them out straight away. I'm not sure he'd even think to take it easy on the girls, you know how tough Galra females are? Shiro told Matt how he once was in a meeting with the colonies districts reps from Mars and all of them were-,"

"Wait, hold on!" Lance almost shrieked, never able to control his volume when he was on edge. He immediately realised his mistake and blushed a little but continued. "Ahem, you said, you said Shiro? That Shiro?"

"If you mean Captain Shirogane then yes," Pidge was way too chill while saying something so utterly mind-blowing.

"Don't tell me you know him personally," Lance asked but could see from her expression that she wasn't lying. And, most importantly, didn't get what big a deal it was.

"Yeah, he and Matt worked together with my dad before they started at the Embassy, he comes by for dinner from time to time. Why?" Lance gaped and Hunk chuckled.

"Didn't you know that Lance is Shiro's biggest fanb-mh," what was it with Hunk today, he was too talkative for his own good. How convenient Lance had long limbs, so he could bend over the table and clap his big mouth shut real fast.

"Wait, really?" but not fast enough, and now Pidge got this glint in her eyes that promised pain and suffering from ruthless teasing and humiliation. "Do you want me to introduce you?" she sing-songed.

Lance glared.

"Oh he so does," Hunk chimed in, speaking over his palm.

"Does he have posters?"

"He hides them in the bottom drawer under his socks."

"How do you-," now they were both snickering at him. "You know what, I'm out of here," he quickly snatched up his tray and started towards the exit. He'd finish his meal side-dished with wounded pride in solitude.

Apparently, Lance's cruel fate had other plans for him in store because one moment he was marching purposefully away from the table of traitors and the next he smashed into someone's solid back, sending the remains of his lunch flying in all directions and landing on himself and the unfortunate person he ran into. Which turned out to be James. Just great.

"McClain, you again!" oh boy, he looked furious. It must be his half-eaten panna cotta that was currently sliding off his head to plop onto his left shoulder and continue downwards all across the front of his uniform vest. Not that Lance felt any better on the floor covered in a layer of tomato sauce and juice. "You just keep ruining everything for me, don't you?"

"H-hey, James, I didn't see you, I'm sor-," the angry boy didn't let him finish, yanking him up by the lapels of his equally ruined vest.

"Sorry my ass! You're a walking disaster, no surprise we failed because of you. You can never get anything right and I'll be damned if I'll ever be your partner in anything ever again!" he finished as loudly as he started and pushed Lance back so hard he stumbled and fell on his ass again. It hurt, but not as much as James' words. He knew he was clumsy and absent-minded sometimes but that didn't mean he couldn't work in a team-

Loud clatter from the side sounded like thunder in the hushed silence, and Lance turned in time to see a stormy-looking Keith walking towards them with firm determination. He didn't get to wonder why that was because the half-Galra spoke addressing James.

"Take that back," his voice was dangerously low, almost resembling a growl, and Lance felt a shiver of excitement run down his spine. He quickly scrambled to his feet, realising he kept sitting on the dirty floor like a fool.

"No way!" James whined, rubbing at his uniform and only making it worse. "He brought it upon himself. In fact, it's your fault too, if you didn't show up then like you own the place, we could've worked it out, but now because of this good for nothing-"

"Take that back, you scum!" Keith all but roared and lunged at James with such speed and force Lance missed the moment his fist connected with James' jaw and only registered what had happened when he crumbled to the ground, clutching the side of his face in pain and disbelief. People around gasped and shouted, some stood up and the scraping of chairs and stomping of feet mixed into a panicked chaos. What was more horrifying, however, was that Keith never stopped and kneed James in the stomach hard enough to make him start coughing so badly Lance feared he might loose his lunch.

"You don't deserve him, you pathetic wimp," Keith spat out, readying for another punch and Lance realised he had to interfere because James already didn't look so good.

"K-Keith, hey, b-buddy," stupid stutter. "Calm down, will you?" Of course he could barge in and try to stop him by force but seeing how he had just knocked down James, a much fitter guy than him, Lance knew how little his chances were. Surprisingly, Keith listened, well, at least he paused to glance at him, but once his eyes fell on his face he visibly cringed and turned back to a still panting James who was standing up with great difficulty.

"You're a fucking psycho," he wheezed and tried to get Keith with a right hook but Keith blocked it easily, hitting James in the side instead, which sent him crashing into the table. People gathered around but didn't try to help and Lance felt useless, trapped there with the two fighting boys and unable to do a thing to stop this madness. James was right, he really wasn't good for anything.

Suddenly the crowd of onlookers parted and Ryan came forth, followed by Nadia and Ina. Together the four of them managed to seize Keith and pull him off James who didn't protest much at this point. They were just in time too because then the campus security arrived, and they were all escorted to the principal's office.

And by them all Lance meant Keith, James and himself, because apparently he looked equally involved in the commotion since he was also dirty and guilty-looking. However, when Principal Sanda asked what had caused the fight Lance was genuinely lost because he had no idea. So he decided to say what he did know.

"I ran into James, by accident of course, and he wasn't happy-"

"Who would be!"

"Mr. Griffin!"

"Sorry, ma'am."

"Did you start the fight?" the principal asked James sternly.

"No! It was the crazy Galra!"

"That's enough, Mr. Griffin!"

"He's telling the truth, I started it," Lance looked at Keith in shock. He never thought Keith would just state it like that. "I started it and I am ready to face the consequences."

As weird and unpleasant as the situation was Lance couldn't help but admire Keith's courage and directness. He readily took the blame and didn't try to get out of punishment like James did. Well, technically Keith was the one at fault, but James acted like a jerk too so Lance wouldn't feel bad if he got some sort of penalty out of it too.

"And do you care to explain, Mr. Kogane, what was the reason for your aggression?" the way she spoke suggested she was ready to listen to Keith's point of view but if that meant she would be willing to let them off the hook Lance couldn't tell.

"He said some unacceptable things and I couldn't just stand by," as he was talking Keith was looking straight ahead of him, as if he was reporting the results of some mission to a higher-in-command. His brows were furrowed a little and his jaw was tense. He looked so confident, so handsome, Lance couldn't tear his gaze away.

"What things might those be?" Principal Sanda pressed him to continue.

"Things that on Daibazaal would be enough for me to challenge him to a fight to the death," so passionate- wait, what?

"I didn't say anything like that!" James seemed to share Lance's bewilderment, but Keith didn't offer any further explanation and the principal let out a deep sigh. She clearly didn't want to get involved in a cross-cultural conflict. That was why she didn't invite other officials or the student panel. The fact that Keith had a Galra lineage and chose to study at the Galaxy Garrison Academy added a lot to its prestige and illustrated successful galra-human integration. Of course, it was in everybody's interests that it all stayed that way.

"Well, we are not on Daibazaal, and not even on Mars, so you will have to learn to control yourself if you want to continue your education here," Keith's hands, clenched in tight fists on his sides, twitched, then he briefly looked at Lance, catching his confused stare, and finally nodded.

"I am ready to answer for my actions."

"Good. And to help you get over your differences and learn to communicate with words for a change, you two will keep Mr. Kogane company while he serves his detention," she looked at Lance and then at James.

"What! But I didn't-!"

"You will be getting your tasks and reporting to Mr. Iverson till the end of next week. That is all," and just like that they were dismissed.

Once they exited the principal's office, James stormed off, grumbling to himself and probably cursing Lance and Keith under his breath, and the two of them stayed in the corridor alone. It was very awkward. Wanting to say something to dispel the heavy silence, Lance opened his mouth, but Keith was faster.

"I am sorry," he said, sincere remorse shining in his pretty eyes. Lance was so weak for those.

"Uh, don't worry, won't be my first detention," when Keith was looking at him like that he was ready to forgive him for anything.

"No, I mean your engagement, I ruined a sacred bond. I shouldn't have come into your room that day," Keith looked positively heart-broken, like he accidentally kicked Lance's puppy or something. No, wait.

"My what?"

"It was Griffin, wasn't it?" Keith's cheeks were flushed red, and if Lance didn't know better he would think he was about to cry. Only, actually, he did not know better, he barely knew Keith at all and lately his behaviour had got more and more confusing. But Lance was sure of one thing - he hated seeing Keith sad, whatever was the cause.

"Griffin's an ass, but you get used to it," Keith blinked at him, obviously not getting it. "Uh, not you specifically, but like, everybody knows he doesn't mean it when he says all these things."

"Was he verbally abusing you?"

"Abusing m- No! Nothing like that, he just mouths people off when he's irritated I guess, we don't really hang out that much. I think the last time I spoke to him more than a couple of words was like a month ago. Well, aside from chemistry yesterday. You know, he's got his group of friends and I've got mine and I-," Lance was rambling, he knew it but he couldn't stop himself. Keith did it for him though.

"If it wasn't him then who was it?"

"Who was what?" was Lance being slow or was it Keith speaking in riddles?

"The one who stopped courting you."

"No one was courting me," Lance said automatically, not fully getting the meaning of the words. Because they were making zero sense. "Why would somebody court me? I'm not a princess," he said before he thought and then felt his face burn in immediate embarrassment.

Keith was no better though, with a heavy scowl and his mouth hanging slightly open, like he was processing something big and super complicated in his head and it was coming up 'Error Error Error'.

"But you were- your- you had-," he muttered quietly, staring at him, then shook his head, barked out "Forget it!" and stomped away, leaving Lance in the dark yet again.


	3. Part 3

I wanted Lance to have the big epiphany in this chapter but it got kinda longish, so he'll have to stay oblivious a little bit longer. But there are some good things in here too, like: James is rehabilitated, Pidge is onto something and wants to help, and Lance learns more about Keith sometimes even without realising it.

* * *

Okay, Lance may have had a fair share of detentions in his life but Iverson managed to take theirs to a new level.

The man was teaching at the Academy long enough to get a taste for the super-strict discipline and ruthless punishments of its earlier days, and it seemed he purposefully refused to acknowledge a much more liberal environment that had been cultivated in the recent years.

They didn't even have to go find him after classes to get their first assignment. No, Iverson waited for them right outside their physics classroom.

Where they'd just had a very difficult aerodynamics lesson by the way. One that, Lance was pretty sure, Keith was finding particularly hard to follow today, since he'd left his textbook in Lance's dorm room. He didn't let it show though, reciting the material he must've learned by heart to suck up to the prof. What a show-off. And he wouldn't even look at Lance who wanted to communicate his confusion and eagerness to clarify things after their extremely awkward conversation earlier. Lance hoped he'd manage to get hold of Keith when they finished, but no.

"Griffin, Kogane! Finally showed your true colours, didn't you! You won't be as enthusiastic to throw fists at each other after I'm done with you," Iverson barked at the two, effectively halting them in their steps and consequently making Lance crash right into Keith's back.

For a moment where he found himself nose deep in Keith's mullet Lance thought dreamily, 'So it's thick and soft. Perfect bastard.' But his bliss was never meant to last long, as Iverson's gruff voice quickly reminded him where he was.

"And who's this?" Lance straightened his back under the severe stare of Iverson's one functioning eye and gulped nervously. Of course the man didn't remember him, he only instructed fighter pilots and Lance last saw him at the placement test last year. And since Lance didn't pass, well... it still sucked to have to state his less prestigious status.

"Lance McClain, sir, cargo pilot," he managed without making a stuttering fool of himself. Which was partially thanks to Keith whom Lance was more irritated at right now than he was scared of Iverson. After all, rumour had it that it was after the exchange programme had been introduced that the number of spots in each group was redistributed.

"Hmph, you'll be working extra hard then, because I'm not going to go easy on you just because you're not as fit," Lance heard James chuckle and felt his cheeks blaze with shame. He was so mortified he didn't notice Keith tense beside him as well.

"Enough loitering! You've got work to do," Iverson said strictly and headed down the corridor, indicating with all his stiff retreating body that he expected them to follow without questions.

They ended up at the library and stopped in front of a large pile of boxes with brand new equipment for the interactive lab-simulators that would allow students to practice lab work outside of class. And all this equipment had to be taken to the third floor. Normally they used drones to do it, but watching them carry the heavy load wouldn't make for much of a punishment, so they had to carry all the boxes themselves. Oh, and they had to use the stairs.

Now Lance wasn't ashamed to admit he'd always found chemistry hard, but after going three rounds with boxes that weighed more than a bunch of bricks he learned that it was apparently also heavy as hell. It didn't help matters that he was the only one who was barely breathing by that point, whereas Keith and James looked like they had yet to break a sweat. Okay, probably not James, but Keith definitely didn't seem bothered in the slightest by the extra exercise.

'I wouldn't be either with a mean body like his,' Lance thought glumly, moving shakily up a flight of stairs. Well, one of the perks here was that he could see Keith's toned arms and legs in action, and when he lagged behind he got a wonderful view of Keith's nice firm bottom that was practically-

"McClain! You fell asleep or what! Move those noodle legs faster or you'll get a double load next time," right, he couldn't get distracted by Mr. Beef right now. He'd just catalogue everything he saw and later today think about it in the privacy of his bathroom. Yes, good plan.

Which was very difficult to stick to because the half-Galra had to get in his face and offer help just as he was climbing up the last flight. Keith didn't say anything and barely looked at Lance, but there was no mistaking the gesture: with Keith's outstretched hands ready to take Lance's burden it was crystal clear. And sooo very tempting. But Lance was stubborn (and stupid obviously, his muscles were screaming already), so he ignored the silent offer.

Unsurprisingly, by the time they finished for the day Lance could hardly feel his appendages at all and had a strong suspicion that he'd be so sore next morning he'd be lucky if he could move a finger. He went to his dorm at a snail's pace, thinking about his bed with sweet longing and imagining them being two star-crossed lovers who'd have to separate as soon as the sun rose. Too soon that is.

What he absolutely didn't expect to see when he finally got to his room was Pidge, who sat cross legged on his beloved bed and held what appeared to be a tiny transistor in one hand and a screwdriver in the other. Hunk was kneeling on the floor at her feet, holding a flashlight so that the beam was lighting the thing from the bottom.

"Uh, guys? It's like, past curfew, what are you doing here?" Lance didn't even have strength to express the appropriate amount of surprise but you couldn't blame him. After all he'd been through it was a miracle he was still standing upright.

"Lance, you're alive!" Pidge hollered and got shushed by Hunk who, however, exclaimed not much quieter, "We've been worried sick, where have you been all this time?"

In not too many words Lance told them about his trip to the principal's office and their joined detention. Pidge scoffed when he got to the part where Iverson came to pick them up, muttering 'rude baboon', and Hunk shook his head sympathetically when he heard how many times Lance had to go up and down the stairs.

"I still don't get it, what happened at the canteen? Why was Keith hitting James and how did you get in the middle of it?" Pidge always knew the right questions to ask, the only trouble was - Lance had no idea how to answer them.

"I wish I knew," he said, sitting down on his chair heavily. "James got mad at me when I ran into him and then Keith was there, and he was-," Lance was too tired to focus but the first thought that popped into his fuzzy brain was 'Keith was trying to protect me'. Then, suddenly, he remembered Keith's words outside of the principal's office when he asked if somebody was courting Lance, and another absurd idea appeared out of nowhere, 'Keith was trying to defend my honour.'

It sounded silly even in his head so Lance shook it for good measure. But Pidge came to a conclusion of her own at that moment.

"Wait, was that why you were asking me about Keith earlier?" she turned to Hunk who now sat sprawled on the floor.

"I-uh, no?" he glanced at Lance, with no subtlety whatsoever, and Pidge might've had an actual lightbulb pop above her head, so enlightened she looked all of a sudden.

"Lance, what did you do to him?" now it was Lance's turn to scoff and sputter.

"I didn't do anything, that's the problem! It's all the stupid mullet's fault, and every time I try to talk about it with him he throws a bunch of nonsense at me and flees," Lance's frustration was the only thing that fuelled him but it quickly dissipated and he rubbed at his face in exhaustion.

"What did he say?" Pidge was genuinely curious and Lance couldn't, wouldn't deal with it today. He realised that to explain the whole situation to her would take him confessing everything once again. And he simply didn't have the strength, nor courage to do it right now.

"Hey, Pidge, let's leave it till tomorrow, okay," Hunk got up from the floor and took the device from Pidge's hands, communicating something to her with a meaningful look. She grasped it right away, nodded in agreement and climbed off Lance's bed, straightening the sheets as if in apology for intrusion.

She knew Lance never minded her company but felt that he needed space, especially after such a trying day. Still, she couldn't leave on a sombre note like this and called when she was at the door, "Just so you know, I'll be glad to introduce you to Captain Shirogane any time you like."

And with a cheeky wink Pidge was out of the room, leaving Lance pouting but actually relieved and happy she didn't press the matter.

Also, who was he kidding, it left him a bit elated and hopeful that one day he would meet his hero after all. With that thought Lance fell asleep, even as there was a peculiar itch at the back of his mind, telling him he was forgetting something important.

—

Just as Lance predicted, next day started with a great deal of pain. His body felt like one big cramped muscle and he woke up Hunk with his groans because he deserved to have company while he suffered.

Once he got up, however, and got his blood flowing a little, his mood improved. Up until the moment he had to bend down to pack his bag for the day and later when he had to sit at his desk in class. Everything hurt, so much, and his pride, wounded by chuckles and giggles around him, only made it worse.

His sorry physical state didn't save him from mental struggles either. At statistics Mr. York decided Thursday was a perfect day for a surprise test on everything they learned so far. The way he delivered it to them sounded so much like one of his weird overly complicated jokes Lance realised he wasn't trying to be funny when he only had half an hour till the bell. He wouldn't be surprised if he failed it completely.

After two more excruciatingly slow classes lunch came like a breath of fresh air Lance so desperately needed. There was just one little problem he knew he'd have to face.

"Sooo, will you tell me now what happened between you and Keith?" Pidge's curiosity amplified by her natural stubbornness hit Lance like a truck - head on and without warning.

"It's a long story," he started reluctantly, still not sure he knew the best way to formulate his story. Hell, he hadn't wrapped his own head around the whole situation yet. But he also knew he couldn't hide from Pidge forever, and he didn't really want to.

"Well, I'm all ears and don't mind skipping next class if you're up for it," Lance shrugged and winced, gingerly sipping from a carton of strawberry milk - he didn't feel like fumbling with a fork right now and wondered if he'd be able to sip his bowl of noodles through a straw as well.

"Uh, I don't know what Iverson might do to me if he finds out I skip classes on top of being a brawl instigator," he said, chuckling a little nervously, which made Hunk look around in concern. Pidge, however, was unfazed.

"Alright, just start from the beginning," she leaned closer, her elbow almost ending up in her lasagna, and Lance realised there was no talking himself out of it.

"Okay, right, well-,"

"How did the two of you end up talking anyway?" she interrupted right away.

"Uhh, we haven't actually-"

"I mean, I know you've had hots for him since the placement test flights, but you always denied it and I thought it'd take you at least-,"

"Woah, woah, woah, hold up! You knew?" Lance probably would be on his feet and flailing his arms around right now if his limbs weren't so stiff and sore. Instead he just dropped his milk and his jaw. Then he realised what just came out of his mouth and tried to correct himself, "I mean what are you talking about I never-," but it was too late, of course.

"Don't waste your energy denying it, just tell me: did he approach you first? Cause I know you're one of the most oblivious people on campus, but surely even you had to notice the looks Keith has been throwing your way lately," Pidge grinned at him then and Lance felt a shiver of apprehension run down his tense aching spine.

"N-no, what looks?" he asked weakly.

"Yeah, what looks?" Hunk parroted with more vigour and stared at Pidge in question.

"Why, he's been obviously trying to catch your attention," she stated as if they were missing a huge elephant in the room. When Lance joined Hunk in the staring contest, she sighed and elaborated, "What, haven't you noticed how every time Keith nails a dangerous flip in PE or aces a difficult question in the classroom he always glances your way, Lance, to see your reaction?"

In fact, no, Lance hadn't. His blank dumbfounded expression must've egged Pidge on because she continued, raising her volume as she went.

"Well I'm not exactly surprised, you do have a really dorky look on your face every time that happens, but let me tell you," and here she dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "Keith never tries as hard in any of the classes you don't share. Believe me, I asked around."

"W-what are you driving at?" Lance asked, even though he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"What I'm driving at is," Pidge paused and fell back in her chair, making it tilt backwards and balance on two legs, "that you must've done something really stupid to piss him off, the boy was so eager to make friends with you."

Lance didn't know if he imagined it, but the way Pidge raised one eyebrow at the word 'friends' couldn't be just for emphasis. What was she implying?

"Do you really think he was-? No, it's not that, I mean, I haven't done anything, I swear, at least I think I haven't," and of course now Lance started rethinking everything he'd ever said to Keith and wondering if any of that could've offended him. As his brain short-circuited Hunk thankfully came to his rescue.

"If anything, I think there was a misunderstanding," he offered and Pidge turned her attention to him.

"Tell me more."

Lance called Hunk his best friend for a reason, he knew him better than anyone else, and in this tricky situation managed to disclose as much information to Pidge as Lance was comfortable with. In the remaining fifteen minutes of their lunch break he told her the gist, with an occasional confirmation from Lance, and still kept Lance's main secret. Seriously, sometimes Lance was ready to confess his undying love to his big life-saving buddy.

It wasn't that he didn't trust Pidge, he just wanted to tell her everything himself when he was ready, and right now was not the time yet. And she wasn't stupid, she sensed that they were hiding something but didn't insist, promising instead that she would look into the 'weird (half)-Galra behaviour' matter in her spare time (which probably translated into 'during class right under the professor's nose').

Lance was truly thankful for the wonderful friends he had.

And yet what Pidge told him about Keith left him wondering. Could it be that Keith wasn't as oblivious to Lance's existence before last weekend as Lance believed he was? No way, when he brought his stupid book he made it pretty clear he didn't even know Lance's name. It didn't make sense.

He contemplated cornering Keith before Iverson would accost them, but had no such luck: both James and Keith arrived straight at their next sight of torment. The gym.

When they entered Lance had a wild thought that Iverson would order them to fight each other to see who lasted longer, but it turned out he wanted them to work in a team. Lance wasn't sure which of the two options was crazier. But Iverson had a point.

"You see that equipment over there," he pointed to a bunch of hurdles, benches, a couple of vaulting bucks, what looked like a dismantled climbing set and some other unidentifiable junk. All of it seemed rather out of shape and Lance guessed what Iverson wanted them to do before he said it. "It has to be taken outside for the recycling service workers to pick up at eight. So you better get a move on!"

James' face twisted into a sour expression and Lance didn't even try to hide how miserable he felt, but Keith, oh he was a perfect picture of stoicism and neutral acceptance. They would totally make a great team all together.

The outdated equipment was as heavy and cumbersome as it looked and it took them some time to figure out how to pick up the larger pieces. At first James was huffing and rolling his eyes when Lance failed to hold his end of each piece straight, but after transporting half of the stuff he wasn't much better himself so they just worked in silence and in peace alongside. As for Keith, let's say, Lance would've been surprised to hear him complain. What irritated him though was that the mullet-head wouldn't hold his gaze for more than a couple seconds even when they walked literally face to face while carrying some of the things.

At least the exercise got to him today because when they were done (at a quarter to eight!) Keith's cheeks were as red as tomatoes and his long bangs stuck to his sweaty forehead.

'Not so tough and tireless after all, are you,' Lance thought, smirking triumphantly to himself, even as he was barely standing on his own two feet.

In fact, when he rose from the last crouch after depositing a particularly heavy weight plate he swayed and almost fell back, but in the last moment felt a firm hand catch him by the elbow.

"Easy there, wouldn't want to haul you ass to the infirmary after this shitload of old crap," James was eloquent as ever, despite his own visible exhaustion. Even so, there was no malice in his tone.

"Uh, thanks, man," Lance mumbled awkwardly.

"Don't mention it," James let go of him but didn't leave, shifting a bit from foot to foot, as if he wanted to say something else and didn't know how to begin. Lance waited, and rightly so. "Hey, listen, about the other day, during lunch, what I said..." he started haltingly, and Lance couldn't believe his ears. Was that- Was he really going to-?

"Look, I want to apologise," James looked at him with determination and Lance could imagine what immense effort it took him to admit he had been wrong. "The things I said- I didn't really mean it, you know, that you're no good for team work, I think- Well, you kinda are a klutz, but you're okay, on the whole, uhh, so..." God that was painful, Lance had to spare him already, and because he had such a good and gracious soul he did.

"No problem, I got it, you're sorry and I accept, I'm sorry too I ruined your uniform, and our lab work, um," he trailed off.

"Chemistry's the worst, it's not just you," and James grinned at him light-heartedly and clapped him amiably on the shoulder. Lance grinned in return, trying not to wince too much at the soreness he was reminded of. "Alright, I'm gonna go report to Iverson-of-a-bitch and head back to the dorms. Later," Lance chuckled at the spot-on nickname and waved him goodbye, intending to follow him suit.

However, when he went to re-enter the gym he barely avoided running into Keith who was carrying a box with climbing ropes and looked about to walk through the open double-doors. Or had he been standing there?

Lance stuttered our a quick apology and hurried on his way, cause damn was Keith scowly, and the last thing he wanted right now was a new confrontation. True, he had something he wanted to ask Keith about, a few somethings even, but he needed a fresh mind for that, and at the moment the only thing he could think of was his bed.

—

On Fridays Lance had a free morning and then the loading-unloading practice on the simulators after lunch. Usually he had that time to himself, made a nice deep-moisturising mask, shaped his eyebrows, filed his nails, but today he had detention, and since he would be occupied in the evening he had to find Iverson and tell him that.

Hunk had his engines repair workshop at nine so they started out together. As they walked Lance told him once again the amazing tale of Apologetic James, bragging that he had finally grown on the temperamental boy. Hunk just shook his head and smiled, because both of them knew it wouldn't be long before James got pissed off at Lance again. He still could enjoy the moment while it lasted.

The stairs they usually took turned out to be blocked by the janitor and they had to pass through the west wing. There they met Ryan. He just exited the room closest to the stairs, so the three of them went to the main building together.

"Shoot, I'm running late, I promised Shay to meet her at the great hall by the elevators," Hunk remembered when they were a few feet from the entrance.

"Okay, off you go, big guy, see you in the evening. Tell Shay I said hi," Lance called after Hunk's retreating form and got an indistinct parting yell in return.

"Lance?" Ryan had been so quiet the whole walk Lance was surprised to hear him suddenly address him. They rarely spoke outside class but he was always friendly with Lance and right now seemed to have something on his mind. "How are you holding up?"

"Oh, it's alright, well, as much as it can be with Iverson anyway," Ryan nodded in understanding. His face wasn't very expressive but after that fateful camping trip where Ryan basically played referee between him and James Lance learned to discern his emotions. At the moment he was concerned for some reason.

"And how is it going between James and Keith?" he asked.

"Okay, I guess? Definitely not violent," Lance tried to joke because he couldn't tell what exactly Ryan wanted to know.

"That's good...," he hummed. "James let it go already, and he wanted to apologise to you-,"

"Oh yes, he did, took me by surprise," Lance felt his cheeks grow hot. Learning that James had thought about his apology beforehand made it more real somehow.

"That's great, but Keith won't talk to me about what happened, and just when I hoped he was finally starting to open up."

"Open up?"

"We've been roommates since he arrived, but he is very reserved," Ryan looked to the side in defeat and Lance almost blurted out 'So are you!' but held his tongue. Also...

"Wait, you've been roommates all this time?" that... was an interesting piece of information.

"Yes, but we still haven't bonded," noticing Lance's blank stare he clarified, "Like you and Hunk. I believe it's very important to get to know those who share your personal space."

"Yeah, that's fair," Lance hurried to agree but he was distracted by a swarm of questions that he suddenly had a serious urge to ask. Like 'What colour is Keith's comforter?' or 'What shampoo does he use?' or 'Does Keith ever walk around shirtless?' or even 'What does he look like when he sleeps?' But of course that'd be ridiculous and he'd make a big fool of himself. Then again, what did he have to loose?

"Lance?"

"Yes! What?" great, he ended up zoning out on Ryan.

"I asked do you know why he attacked James in the first place?"

"Uhh," now how was he supposed to explain that one. "It's been a misunderstanding," he remembered Hunk saying that to Pidge yesterday, "you know, some silly stuff James said that could get him chopped to pieces on Daibazaal or something like that," was it obvious Lance wasn't telling Ryan the whole truth, he wondered.

"Yeah, that sounds like James," thank God he bought it. "Alright, I hope they'll sort it out on their own, and maybe I'll try talking to Keith again next time I see him."

"Great plan," Lance nodded and then felt the need to add, "You sound like an awesome roommate, Ryan," he winked, showing him thumbs-up.

"Thanks, Lance," Ryan gave him a little smile, which Lance counted as his personal win, and left for his class.

Lance, meanwhile, steeled himself for the next few hours in Iverson's company, dreading what the man might make him do alone.

—

Luckily, when Lance showed up at the teachers' office Iverson was swimming in paperwork so he just loaded Lance with a pile of students files to sort. Lance marvelled at the fact they still kept printed out document when everything was mostly stored on computers, but didn't complain. Those files were much lighter than anything he'd lifted in the past couple of days.

While he was working the temptation to look into the exchange students folder reared its head several times. And after two hours of dull shifting of papers his curiosity overpowered him and Lance went as far as opening and filing through it. However, once he got to the letter K and caught sight of a familiar shaggy hairstyle in the little picture in the corner Lance snapped the folder closed. He didn't want to learn about Keith in such a dishonest way. Besides, even if the picture in the file matched Keith perfectly, the name of the student started with an Y. Lance could be mistaken, of course, he only glimpsed at it after all.

Iverson held him up for most of the lunch break as well and his parting words were, "I expect you tomorrow at the hangars at three sharp." As much as Lance wanted to complain that it was normally his day off he realised there was nothing that would convince Iverson to change his mind. Especially since fighter pilots had flying practice on Saturday mornings, only as far as Lance knew they also trained on the simulators. God only knew what Iverson planned for them in the hangars where all the real machines were located. What if they would get the chance to fly? Or at least get permission to climb into one, Lance definitely wouldn't mind seeing a fighter class jet from the inside.

The rest of the day was relatively uneventful. His piloting instructor even let them go half an hour early, and by six Lance was already back in his room. Hunk was still out though, probably hanging out with Shay, and Pidge had several extra curriculums (some of which she shared with Keith) so there was no point asking her to come over either. To think of it, it was probably for the best, because Lance needed to recharge after all of the stress he'd been under lately.

Nothing could do the trick more perfectly than a nice hot bath. He even had one bath bomb left, a pretty butterfly-shaped purple and blue one with rose and lemon oils that were meant to 'leave the skin feeling as smooth as can be'. He'd been really looking forward to using it and now that Hunk knew of his love for beauty products he would hardly be against Lance soaking in colourful fragrant water. Hopefully.

Before he finished undressing, however, his phone pinged and lit up with a new message, which happened to be from Pidge. Who was most definitely in class right now. Unlike his retro laptop, Lance phone was one of the latest holoscreen models with sensory memory, even if the orange semitransparent corpus had a few cracks already. Pidge's message popped up in a hologram once he tapped it, the bold caps reading 'CHECK THIS OUT' and then a link that looked fit for the ancient search engine on his computer.

"She really thought this through," Lance mused and decided to look up whatever site Pidge insisted he visited before the bath. If it was something mind-blowing and potentially traumatising (which wouldn't be the first time), he would definitely need a quality anti-stress self-care moment afterwards.

Powering up the laptop took a couple of minutes and when Lance was finally typing in the address he felt mildly intrigued. When the homepage loaded though, Lance froze, blinked a couple of times and almost banged his head on the desk. He was an idiot.

It was Shiro's blog, with the familiar dark-mauve backdrop and loads of entries on numerous topics. How could he possibly forget to check Shiro's blog. Lance wanted to facepalm so hard but then his eyes landed on the pinned post that had Allura's logo (a cute white mouse with tiny blue marks on its cheeks similar to the princess') attached to it, along with the time and date of her next stream.

It was on Saturday, starting at six.

This Saturday.

Tomorrow.

Lance couldn't believe he forgot. All this drama with Keith and then the detention - he could've missed seeing his two favourite people together, doing make-up, and 'live', all because of some pretty half-Galra boy he probably had no chance with any way. Gosh, he seriously needed to set his priorities straight.

And yet, since he was already on Shiro's blog, why not look for some logical explanation for this whole mess. Certainly, Shiro would have the answers to all his questions. He even had a QA section on the menu bar, which Lance somehow never visited before.

Today was the day it seemed. The questions Shiro got were numerous and varied greatly. Thankfully, he had them grouped by major themes, like 'Galra vs Human Etiquette', 'Common Cultural Assimilation Problems', 'Is it normal to ... on Daibazaal/Mars/Earth?', 'All You Need to Know About: Galra-Human Marriages', 'Choosing School for Your Children' and many more. Lance suddenly realised that he'd come upon a real goldmine, but also that he'd have to spend the whole night to go through half of it. Not that he had to, but some discussions looked like they could throw more light on his particular situation.

He was about to click on the first relatively fitting topic when his phone pinged again. This time Pidge's message was shorter and read 'Look in Galra-Human Interactions: What Do I Do Wrong' followed by her tiny cartoonish face that laughed at him. Seriously, sometimes Lance suspected Pidge could read minds, even at a distance. But to be fair, the title perfectly summed up his internal turmoil.

Apparently, not only his, there were 30 pages of questions, each of them threaded with answers, clarifications, external links and words of thanks. Lance felt a shiver of excitement at the thought that he too could write to Shiro and get a reply like everybody else who addressed him. But how should he formulate it not to appear a completely ignorant fool who was too lazy to look anything up on his own.

He needed to investigate.

Scrolling through the first couple of pages with the latest threads didn't help Lance much with anything other than learning about a dozen human office workers who feared to insult the recently transferred Galra employees. There were also some desperate individuals in whose cases the damage had already been done and who asked for help. Nothing even remotely close to a school or college setting that interested him most. By page three Lance was starting to doubt he'd find anything useful here at all.

That was how Hunk found him, sitting at the desk half-undressed, while staring intently at the screen and frowning.

"Hey, Lance, what's up?" Hunk asked, startling him a little.

"Can you believe it, I forgot to look on Shiro's blog!" he exclaimed instead of greeting.

"You mean about Keith?" Hunk was unloading his bag at his own desk and picked up the Galra manual that they still hadn't returned to its rightful owner. All because of Lance's sound reasoning - 'if he wants it back he'll have to come and get it himself'.

"Well, not about him exactly, but someone could've had a similar problem, and Shiro gives such good advice," he scrolled down a bit more, looking for a proper illustration when a peculiar thread caught his attention. Unlike most of the questions that were fairly short and held brief descriptions of the predicaments, this one looked more like a letter with its distinct formatting and style.

"Oh wow, this one looks like somebody really needs it," Hunk squinted at the text over Lance's shoulder. Lance decided to humour him and read it out.

"'Mr. Shirogane, I am writing in hope to receive your advice on a matter which is of utmost importance to me. I came to Earth to live and study several months ago and so far my stay here has been most lucrative and satisfying. The struggle to fit in was great at first but I found my way around the teachers and fellow students, except for one. I do not know how to approach the person I find most attractive, giving and kind and whose look alone makes me want to push myself harder in my training and my studies. I fear one wrong move can ruin my chances at courting them successfully and winning their adoration. I assure you that my intentions are most serious and my goal is to build a close partnership that will hopefully turn into a mating bond with time. So far my attempts at catching their attention have been all in vain as they refused to acknowledge my physical prowess and my wit that I tried to demonstrate to the best of my abilities. Of course, I was restricted in my options and could not come across any wild game that would be worth presenting to them, besides I learned that hunting on the grounds surrounding my current place of residence was prohibited by the state law. Therefore, I ask you to, please, tell me what the common human courting techniques are and how I should proceed in my quest. Sincerely, Thunderstorm Darkness'," Lance choked on a snort when he finished.

"Wait, seriously? They signed as-?" Hunk leaned closer to see for himself and Lance burst out laughing.

"This has gotta be a prank!" he wheezed between bouts of laughter. "Who in their right mind would pick a nickname like that!" Hunk chuckled as well but also seemed to be rereading the lengthy message.

"I don't know, they sound pretty serious to me."

"And like they came straight from the 19th century, who says all these fancy words any more," Lance crossed his arms over his chest and huffed.

"I don't know, maybe someone who grew up in one of the colonies and learned the language with what they had close at hand?"

"And what would that be, Pride and Prejudice?"

"Come on, Lance, don't be so judgemental," Hunk teased and Lance glared at him for using such a lame pun. "Okay, how did Shiro reply to that?"

Lance scrolled down to reveal the thread which wasn't too long but contained a couple of links.

"Oh, he took it seriously," Lance read out Shiro's response. "'Dear Thunderstorm Darkness'," here he giggled, got a pointed look from Hunk and continuing as seriously as he could, "'Thank you for sharing your problem with me. I have to admit, I am not as knowledgable when it comes to budding relationships, but I asked a very good friend of mine who has a better insight in such matters and here is what he recommended'," Lance quickly skimmed through Shiro's explanation of where each link lead and chuckled. "Looks like it's a bunch of dating advice websites," out of curiosity he clicked on the first one.

Since the young Galra in need hadn't specified neither their nor their crush's gender Shiro linked the main page where there were two grand sections 'Get the Girl of Your Dreams' and 'Get the Boy of Your Dreams'. Lance wondered if that strict distinction was perhaps the reason so many teenagers and young adults failed to do that - seriously, it'd be much better if there was some universal advice for everyone.

"Do you think it helped them?" Hunk mused and Lance shrugged.

"Who knows, maybe there's something useful in here," and he looked into the list of topics in the get-the-boy section. "Let's see, 'Start a Conversation', 'Get to Know Him', 'Ask Him Out', 'First Date Ideas', 'Simple but Sweet Present Ideas'... Damn they make it sound so simple!"

"Try starting a conversation first," Hunk suggested and went to the closet to change out of his uniform.

During the next few minutes Lance silently poured over the text and Hunk busied himself with cleaning and rearranging his tool kit. Then Lance burst out laughing once again.

"What is it?"

"Oh Hunk, my man, if the 19th century dude read what I just did and took it seriously, they're totally doomed," he spun one time in his chair and beckoned Hunk to come closer. His mirthful expression was so contagious Hunk decided that his tools could wait.

"Here, listen to this: 'Got your eyes on a boy who doesn't notice you? Want to make the first move but don't know how? It's much easier than you think! Just try asking him for a simple favour that he can do right away, like lending you a notebook or showing how to do some easy task. If you're nervous he'll refuse and afraid of being embarrassed, try playing it cool and pretend you're not asking for yourself but for a friend. Better yet, if you and your dream boy haven't spoken even once make it look like you just noticed him and would like to know him better - that will give him a chance to introduce himself the way he wants, and you'll get an opportunity to do the same. Then, casually suggest to hang out some other time. Be nice and friendly and you'll see, he won't be able to resist!'"

"Huh, and that's it?" Hunk scratched his cheek in thought. "I wish I knew that when I first met Shay."

"Hunk, buddy, no, just- No," Lance huffed and shook his head in disapproval. "I can name a dozen of guys who won't fall for this trick in a million years. Take James, he'll ignore anyone who approaches him during break, especially during lunch break, or Keith, imagine somebody asking him to hang out - he'll probably think you want to spar with him or something."

"Funny you mention Keith here," Hunk smirked and raised an eyebrow at Lance.

"Oh shush, it's all hypothetical," Lance said, thinking, 'I wouldn't have the guts to approach him with anything after what happened'. Hunk sensed the drop in the mood and quickly changed the subject.

"Anyway, do you think Shiro believes it's a good source?"

"I guess so, he said a friend recommended it, and it sounded like he had faith in him," Lance closed the questionable dating website and scrolled to the end of the thread.

"Sooo, doesn't that mean that tip could work on Shiro?" it actually took Lance a moment to realise what Hunk was hinting at, and when he did he blushed and sputtered in indignation.

"Th-that's ridiculous- I'd never, no, he'd never-! Argh, let's just agree to never speak of this stupid site ever again," Hunk laughed at him and he pouted a little, focusing on the last message Shiro sent to the unfortunate Thunderstorm Darkness: 'If you have any doubts about the right approach to choose don't hesitate to contact me via insta-mail and I'll do my best to help you figure it out. Good luck! '

'So Shiro suspected the links wouldn't be enough,' Lance thought, stretching on the chair and realising how tense and tired he was.

"Okay, I'm gonna go have a bath, you mind?" Hunk was back at his tool box.

"Nah, go ahead, I'll be occupied a while," he said, saluting Lance with a semi-automatic screwdriver.

When he was finally submerged in the pleasantly hot water that acquired a lovely purplish-blue hue after the bath bomb dissolved Lance thought back to what Hunk suggested. That is, that he couldn't resist bringing up Keith even when discussing things like dating, boyfriends and tricky wooing techniques. Lance sulked a little at the realisation.

So what if he found Keith attractive, and athletic, and actually kinda cool, it wasn't like he would to do anything about it. He was perfectly fine with the way things were before the epic events of last weekend, which, by the way, were still a great mystery to him.

Also what did Pidge try to tell him last time they saw each other at lunch, that Keith wanted to be his friend? As if Keith would ever bother to befriend someone as annoying and clumsy as Lance. But even if it were true Lance had a strong suspicion he would ruin all their prospects for becoming friends because he simply wouldn't be able to see Keith as one. A rival? Sure. A secret crush? Definitely. A friend? No way.


	4. Part 4

The greatest mystery is finally solved! Also, Shiro is a life saver but what's new.

This part took me a while but I'm glad it's finally done. After this there are only a couple more chapters at best. I promise to make them extra cute though. ;)

* * *

Maybe it was that he let himself sleep in a little and got up at ten. Or that he didn't feel like rushing with his morning routine, adding a nice exfoliating face mask and 20-minute eye patches to it. Or maybe it was him filing nails until they were all perfect shape again (manual work for two days straight and goodbye manicure) while chatting with Hunk and then taking out his make-up kit to see what he was running out of to ask Hunk maybe fetch something for him when he would be passing through town on his way home.

The result was all the same, Lance was running awfully late for his detention and, well, literally running across campus to get to the fighter jets hangar as fast as his feet could carry him. Which still wasn't fast enough because it was half past three already so he was late no matter what. As he hurried along the main building he thought frantically what Iverson would do to him when he finally arrived. Hunk's words just before he left sprang to his mind.

"You sure you don't want me to stay, you know, just in case?"

"Nah, go see your family, man, you stayed last week."

"Good thing I did, and I don't mind doing it again if you need me."

"Aw, you're the sweetest, most supportive friend alive, you know that, right? But seriously, I'm past all this drama and things seem to be getting back to normal, so don't worry, I'll be just fine," Lance said it then with a confident grin, but now he was not so certain.

With every step closer to the hangar he was mentally preparing for a dressing down of epic proportions and desperately tried to make up a more or less plausible excuse for his lateness. To his surprise (and great relief), Iverson wasn't even there when he entered the spacious building. Keith and James were, standing face-to-face at a good two feet distance and both considerably tense.

For a moment Lance thought they were about to fight each other again and stumbled over his own feet, realising that this time there was nobody to help him stop them. Who knew he'd lament Iverson's absence so soon.

But when he got to the supposedly impending brawl he realised it was rather a very stilted conversation. Keith was standing straight as an arrow, as if he was reciting a poorly prepared poem, while James held his arms crossed defensively over his chest and cocked his head expectantly to the side. Lance's arrival startled both, only James visibly relaxed and Keith looked about ready to flee (was this his secret hobby or something).

"Heey, guys," he offered a wave, hoping the situation wasn't going to escalate in his vicinity any time soon. "So, no supervision, heh? We're almost free birds now, right?" That's it, aim for meaningless banter, Lance, it never hurt anyone, unlike loaded conversations.

"You wish, Iverson will still be at our asses if we don't have these three pretty ladies squeaky clean by the end of the day," James said, gesturing at the jets right behind them.

"Oh," Lance eyed the closest one and took in the scope of his workload. Jesus, what were they doing for training, digging through dirt fields around school grounds? "Bet we'll be done by six?" he asked with little hope.

"Ha!" James didn't even have to make any further comment, the sarcasm in that one syllable said it all. Damn, how Lance was supposed to get back in time for Allura's stream?

They each set to work on their allotted jets right away, pulling up hoses from the water station at the entrance, and no matter how fast Lance scrubbed with his soapy rug and rinsed, he was only finishing with the wings two hours later. This was ridiculous, especially when James started climbing into the cockpit and to Lance's incredulous "We need to wash inside too?" barked "What do you think, McClain? Move your ass!"

"Shit, I'll never make it," he muttered, climbing down the self-adjusting ladder to grab a new rug and put away the hose. He was about to hop to the ground when his foot slipped and in a desperate attempt not to tumble down headfirst Lance let go of the hose, accidentally pushing the switch into full force. The result was the thing going off, spraying water all over the place while it twisted like some pissed off serpent ready to kill.

The first to get a full blast in the face was Keith. 'Oh god, I'm fucked,' Lance thought and hurried down to apologise and neutralise the crazy hose.

Only he didn't have to because Keith caught it with one hand and switched off the water faster than Lance could reach him.

"Oh my god, that was some serious ninja move, dude, are you okay?" Lance was so impressed he forgot about their strained relationship for a moment.

"I am, it was just water," the blast to Keith's face had to be really painful, he was so pink.

"I'm sorry, it was all my fault, I-," the awkwardness returned tenfold.

"I'm fine, it's nothing like the redscale mites I had to chase away from our base back home, and those could be very...," Keith looked at his feet and furrowed his brows, probably searching for the right word in English.

"Uh, twisty?" Lance suggested. He totally got the feeling as he too sometimes wrecked his brain for the right equivalents of Spanish words. Keith blinked up at him and Lance hated to admit how cute his confused face became when it brightened up in agreement.

"Yes, that, also very bity," and here Lance witnessed what had to be the yet undiscovered wonder of the world - Keith's shy smile that revealed his slightly crooked incisors and super pointy canines. Lance gulped, eyeing how wet black hair framed Keith's still slightly rosy face and dripped on the front of his tight white tee.

"Sounds like trouble," he mumbled, dropping his gaze to the floor, which was a mess of puddles and wet rags at this point. "I'll, uh, clear this up," Lance said, crouching carefully and trying not to get dirty water all over his pants. "Looks like I'll be staying here for the rest of my life any way," he mumbled humourlessly.

"What do you mean?" Lance shrugged, never a fan of flaunting his self-pity (okay, maybe occasionally, but that's details), and kept his eyes down. "Do you want to leave?" the question was so blunt and posed so directly Lance gasped and turned.

"Wh- Of course!" Lance burst out then cupped his dirty wet hand to his mouth. Who knew when Iverson decided to appear, so Lance continued in a stage whisper, "Of course I do, the event I've been waiting for half my life is going to start at six and I'll never be able to see it because of this stupid detention!"

Was it Lance's awkward angle, or did Keith shrink a little with every word, as if they were spikes poking at him and making him want to become smaller to avoid being stabbed?

"I could cover for you, and finish with your jet," he spoke quietly, looking down somewhere to Lance's right.

"Why would you do that?" Lance blinked at him and then narrowed his eyes in confusion and a little bit of suspicion. Could Keith probably be setting him up for when Iverson came back to check on them?

"I-," Keith looked him directly in the eye and for a split second Lance thought he caught a glimpse of yellow in his irises. It was absolutely mesmerising. Also a bit intimidating, especially in his current position. But Keith continued, somewhat stilted but obviously determined, "I want to redeem myself, to-," he paused, looking for the right word again, "To make it up to you. After all, you're here because of my misconduct, and I never wanted the punishment to fall on you. Please, would you let me do this for you?"

Well, if that wasn't the most eloquent peace offering Lance ever received. And an awfully tempting one at that, who was he to refuse.

"Sure," he almost squeaked and got on his feet, furtively wiping his hands on the soaked pants cause water had a way of getting everywhere when Lance handled a mop. He chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his head to get an excuse to look to the side as he spoke. "It'd be great, I mean, if you're okay with it, scrubbing all that dirt off is not all fun and games, won't you get super tired?"

"No, I won't, it will be-" Keith's words were abruptly cut off by a short intake of breath. "Um, Lance, you've got..." Keith started uncertainly but trailed off and Lance turned to see what was bothering him. Not that it was immediately obvious, at first glance Keith was just staring at his head.

"What is it?" Lance asked and then jumped to the most logical conclusion. "Wh- Is it a spider? A roach?" the thought alone had him slapping a hand over the back of his neck and rubbing wildly. Bugs were evil and he would tolerate none of them on his person.

"No, it's not-," Keith was saying something else but Lance was already turning and brushing off his clothes to chase away any of the multilegged creatures that could be creeping on him. "No, listen, I thought I saw something purple..."

"You think it's making me feel better?" Lance exclaimed, rubbing at his neck again and then bringing his hand before his eyes to examine it. Oh, it was purple glitter. Lance stared at it dumbfounded for a couple of seconds when it hit him - the bath bomb, he must've failed to rinse it properly from his hair. "Huh, you were right, I missed the spot yesterday, was half asleep with all the exercise, you know what I mean," he went for a half-assed joke, hoping Keith wouldn't make fun of him for having glitter in his hair.

Keith's face visibly darkened.

"I don't understand," he said in a low voice. "You tell me you have no suitors and the next day show up with a new mating mark. Is this all a game to you?"

"What? No! I'm not- I don't have any marks, what are you talking about!" at this point Lance wasn't even asking, he was demanding for some answers. Keith only looked at him with an offended, bordering on hurt expression. How was their finally friendly conversation getting out of hand in a matter of seconds? Was it really something he did? But what was it?

"McClain! You need a special invitation or what," James cut off his mental rant, shouting from the open cockpit of his jet and judging by the sounds, scrubbing it so vigorously it pissed him off he was the only one putting in that much effort.

"I'm at it, James, don't you worry your pretty head," he called back. The tension between him and Keith broke and with a last heavy glance his way the half-Galra walked off to his jet, leaving Lance more confused than ever.

'Alright, focus, Lance, or you'll never get out of here,' he slapped his cheeks once for good measure and went back to mopping the floor, wondering whether Keith's offer still stood after that awkward interaction.

—

Apparently the offer did stand by the time it struck six, because Keith walked up to him then and silently took the bucket Lance had just filled with fresh soapy water from his hands. Then, silently still, he nodded towards the exit that James had taken minutes beforehand, and since Iverson miraculously hadn't checked on them even once, there were no witnesses.

So Lance left, feeling a little guilty nonetheless. Upon quick inspection, the cockpit of his jet looked like somebody got sick there at least twice, and it was the last thing he wanted anybody to be subjected to, but Allura's stream... Some sacrifices just had to be made.

Not that Keith looked like he was in a hurry himself. At least, that was what Lance gathered from what he glimpsed of him right before walking out of the hangar: Keith took out his phone (or what appeared to be a phone, being jet black and opaque but compact and rectangular enough) and brought it to his ear, like he was about to have a chat with someone. Well, not that Lance would judge him, but it made him curious.

Who could be so important Keith couldn't wait to contact them once he was alone? Was it his secret space pal, or maybe a relative? Or was it perhaps someone from the Academy? It seemed Lance would never know.

He reached his room some fifteen minutes past six and booted his ancient computer, cursing it for its slow processor for the first time in a long while. As the browser loaded Lance discarded his dirty clothes, changed and slipped on his fluffy blue bathrobe, meanwhile giving his face a swipe with micellaire water-soaked reusable fiber sheet and pulling out his make-up bag.

However, when the stream started running Lance double checked the time - Allura had to have been streaming for twenty minutes already, with Shiro that is, and he was nowhere in sight. Was he not coming after all? He amped up the volume, switching the settings to speakers, and pored over the screen.

"...so I was thinking of doing this as interactively as possible and decided to try out these new 'texture and fragrance simulators' recently released by the OlkariIntel. Which means that if any of you already have them, don't hesitate to turn them on because I'd love to be able to know your opinion on each and every product we're going to review and, if you so wish, apply."

"Now that is beyond amazing," Lance eyed his old computer with ancient outputs. "Idiot, why didn't you agree when Pidge offered to hook you up with some Olkari tech," he regretted his poor life choices, pulling on his short bangs in frustration. Meanwhile, the princess continued.

"...don't worry because you'll still get detailed characteristics in writing. I switched the settings to 'most colourful and vivid rendering' and checked them in advance. Believe me, you won't be disappointed, you know Olkari never do anything half-way- Oh, and our hero returns! The mice are cheering him on, you can probably hear them in the background."

Lance scooted closer to the monitor, practically wiggling in his chair and making the little wheels squeak against the hard floor. Shiro came into the frame and settled down next to Allura with a light bashful laugh. Lance's heart skipped a beat.

"Yes, I'm back. Sorry for the delay, but I had to take that. An integrational emergency that can happen to the best of us, those are better not left unattended," he looked into the camera with a little smile and Lance felt like melting right there in his seat.

"That's right, you're currently working as a counsellor and help new Galra citizens adapt to life on Earth, tell us, how is it going?" Allura turned to face Shiro and Lance could see her crystal earring sway and sparkle gently in the soft bluish light of her room. Today she had the top half of her hair pinned at the back and the rest of it flowing in thick waves down her shoulders, standing out against her midnight blue top. Shiro, by contrast, wore a light grey v-neck jersey that hugged his broad chest just right and showed a glimpse of his collar bones. Damn, they were absolutely dreamy, both of them.

"It's going good, I'm very happy so many people, humans and Galra alike, are reaching out to me and by extension to each other. I think it shows that what really matters is our willingness to, if not accept, but at least learn of each other's customs and traditions and the reasons behind them, even if it is not something that we practice ourselves. You see, misunderstandings happen, more often than some would like to admit, but all of them can be cleared up if we choose to take a step in the right direction, that is towards understanding the other's point of view, instead of going along with preconstructed beliefs and expectations. Our heritage is not the only thing that makes up who we are, nor does it determine who we can be with and who we can become, it's all up to us and our daily choices. So don't be afraid to be yourself and open up to other people, who knows, maybe they're just waiting for the chance to get to know you better."

"I couldn't agree more, Shiro. That was a very inspired speech, thank you."

"Anytime, and if any of you want to share their personal experiences, ask for some advice, or just know more about Galra history and culture, you're always welcome on my blog," Shiro smiled amiably at the camera and while Allura gave instructions on where to find his blog and other socials Lance started thinking how maybe that was exactly what he did wrong and ended up in a mess with Keith. All this time he had been thinking about himself and how Keith's inexplicable actions could affect his reputation, but he completely neglected to consider how it could be affecting Keith... whatever 'it' was. Because certainly he wouldn't be continuously getting worked up over nothing, there had to be something Lance just didn't know.

What was it exactly that Keith said to justify his actions in the principal's office? That James did something Keith could legally kill him for on Daibazaal? It was probably time for Lance to study the matter as seriously as Keith was taking it, that would be only fair in this situation.

And the first thing Lance would do would be writing to Shiro about his problem, his fears and insecurities be damned. If some Thunderstorm Darkness had the guts to admit they needed help so would Lance.

'Huh, who knew, me and that dude aren't so different after all, only they probably still got a chance to make a move on their crush,' Lance chuckled to himself, already thinking of a good nickname to use. Hunk would totally suggest LoverboyNyance or something even more embarrassing. No, he needed a name with more character, like Blue Lion or Sharpshooter. Yeah, right, as if that would save the last bits of his dignity. Hopefully, the result would be worth it.

He was composing different ways to begin his letter to Shiro in his head and watching the stream at the same time, starting on his make-up and going along with Shiro and Allura who were sharing their preferred techniques and favourite products. They also constantly consulted the viewers on whichever brush or texture to use, but Lance was feeling distracted and couldn't even come up with one good suggestion when his two icons asked. It was honestly kind of sad and anticlimactic, but that was just how Lance worked: whenever something was bothering him everything else faded in the background. And right now all he could think about was Keith.

"Stupid mullet," Lance mumbled and then almost dropped his eyeshadows. Were they at the eye make-up part already? He couldn't miss that, he really needed to get himself together and have some fun like was supposed to.

'Keith didn't stay behind to finish your job for this,' Lance thought, watching Allura open her numerous shadows to put on display before the camera, which was actually a drone and floated around them and the table, getting the best shots. Right now it zoomed in on the beautiful palette that had every hue from dusty lavender to shimmering indigo. Lance was getting ready to make his input into the raging chat that discussed which shade would look better on Shiro in his "dashing but classy night look" that they had voted for earlier in the stream. The shade that caught his eye the most was this deep velvety violet that he knew Shiro would totally rock, especially with his signature killer wings. But as he typed that in, he saw Shiro snatch the palette up from the table and away from the drone's eye.

"Not one of these, please, wouldn't want to give anyone the wrong idea," his tone was light but determined, and Lance was perplexed, even more so when he noticed how Allura's eyes widened a fraction in understanding and the marks on her cheeks got brighter against the blush that suddenly flooded her face.

"Oh, no, definitely, don't know what I was thinking," she quickly took the palette from Shiro's hands and put it away.

Lance, as had to be most of the people in the chat, was beyond bewildered and needed some sort of clarification. Shiro picked up on the mood with what seemed to be practiced ease.

"You see, this is one of the things that you have to be careful about when you live or work with Galra, and by 'this' I mean, um, well, let's call it 'colour coding'," Shiro started explaining with a thoughtful frown. "Like we humans sometimes use certain colours to mark off certain places or situations, so do Galra, but their colour perception is a bit different from ours because their eyes are more sensitive to shorter wavelengths and higher frequencies on the spectrum, which, in terms of colour, would be greens, blues and purples. In fact, they see a lot more shades of those colours than we do, which is probably why they give some of them very special meanings. And purple, or I'd say, a brighter purple, probably what we would call lilac or amethyst, is particularly important to them."

Lance was hanging on his every word, at the same time trying to dismiss the growing feeling of apprehension. This couldn't possibly be heading where he thought it was, right?

"You know how some people would wear engagement rings on their ring fingers to show they are about to marry their partner. Well, Galra don't do jewellery, not really, but have a very specific way of showing the same intentions instead," Lance could barely make out what he was saying through the blood suddenly roaring in his ears.

"I think it's best if I talk some history first. So, originally on Daibazaal it was customary to do a whole lot of things that led to the actual engagement, and the first step was hunting down a beast called kronzark, which is like-,"

"A yalmur with eight legs and scales," Allura chimed in, nodding with conviction.

"Yeah, right, pretty much," Shiro nodded, "and in Earth terms, something between a rhino and a spider? Anyway, it's very fast, strong and has the toughest skin that is very difficult to break. You can imagine that tracking and taking down an animal like that was a clear indicator of one's wit and strength, that's why when someone wanted to court a potential mate," Lance jerked his knee at the awfully familiar words and slammed it into the table top, hissing in pain and blindly rubbing at the sore spot, "they often went on a hunt, among other things of course. But to show that the courting was in progress the hunter usually presented their partner with a jar of kronzark blood mixed with xegor oil, which has high nutritional value and healing qualities by the way. And this is where colour coding comes in!" Lance, shuddered, putting two and two together before Shiro could finish.

"Kronzark blood is bright purple itself, and xegor oil thickens it and gives it a bit of a shimmer, which makes it possible to apply it as a kind of body paint. Because it's both bright and shiny it's quite noticeable on any type of skin and is meant to show that the person wearing it is, well, 'taken'," Shiro said, smiling pleasantly, just as Lance felt he was just hit with a major existential crisis.

"Of course, now the custom has changed and no kronzarks are being killed for a single jar of blood, but using purple shimmering paint during courting is still a very widespread practice, even in the Martian colonies," Allura added, clearly very knowledgeable on the subject as well, which made Lance feel twice a fool.

"In fact, if you look closely at Galra citizens you can spot couples with matching markings, when they put them somewhere visible, like their face, neck or hands. Some may wear them after the mating ceremony or even tattoo them permanently on their skin."

"That is very romantic," Allura said with a dreamy lilt in her voice.

"It is, and also an important part of the Galra culture. Unfortunately, it means that they can have a hard time interpreting it when someone wears purple lipstick or eyeshadows here on Earth. Actually, that's partly what the call I had to take was about-," Shiro talked on, but Lance barely heard it over the clatter of his chair that rolled back and fell as he jumped to his feet.

The weight of realisation crushed into him harder than a freight train. All pieces were falling into place in rapid succession and it finally, finally, was all making sense to him.

'How could I be so freaking dumb,' was spiralling in Lance's head as he paced around the room and pulled at his hair. Then his eyes fell on Keith's still not returned book and something in Lance's mind clicked. 'I've gotta talk to him right now!'

A quick glance at the clock on the wall confirmed it was almost eight already, surely Keith had finished with the jets by now, so without further contemplation Lance snatched the Galra manual and ran out of the room. Miraculously, the morning conversation with Ryan, Keith's roommate, and their location at that moment sprang to his mind as he navigated the corridors at high speed.

Not five minutes later he found himself at what had to be the right door. Lance took a deep breath to calm down his hammering heart, and knocked, quick and sharp despite his shaking hand. He couldn't have any chance of backing out of this, or else he wouldn't be able to confront Keith in a million years.

There was a pregnant pause and no answer, and Lance reached out to knock again when the door slid open, revealing Keith with damp dishevelled hair and bare torso. His face was impassive the first couple of seconds, but when he took in his late visitor his eyes widened and his cheeks grew pink.

"Lance," Keith said it as a statement, with a hint of awe in his voice. And it was then that Lance became painfully aware of what he himself was wearing. Stretched out jogging pants, an old washed out blue crop top, his fluffy bathrobe and silly blue lion slippers Hunk gave him last Christmas. He felt a blush creep over face as well. But he was not going to give up when he already came so far.

"I'm not taken!" he straight out shouted into Keith's face because there obviously was no point in being discreet any longer. On second thoughts, Keith's lost expression suggested that Lance should explain himself better before it could get to the point of being unsalvageable. "No one is courting me, or ever was. Nobody hunted anything for me and I sure as hell haven't put any glittering blood on my face. I'm sorry I confused you, I just like bright make-up and sparkling bath bombs, and purple is one of my favourite colours."

He started in a bit of a rush, forcing the words out as fast as possible, but when he finished it was much quieter and, Lance hoped, believable. He was, after all, confessing his most secret guilty pleasure, while facing a very attractive, shirtless boy, which was a terrible distraction to be honest.

The silence stretched and Lance was beginning to worry he made a wrong, absolutely horrible decision when he came here and opened his big stupid mouth. Then Keith said, "Does this mean you would consider giving me a chance?"

"I- What?" and they were back to square one, with Keith saying stuff that rendered Lance speechless and confused. And the way he said it, so serious, almost solemn, as if he expected Lance to make some life-changing decision right this instant.

"If I were to court you, would you let me?" apparently, Keith also went for a direct approach, figuratively and literally speaking, because he made a step closer to Lance and peered tentatively into his eyes.

"I- Well, I mean, you- Why do you want to?" Lance mumbled, clutching Keith's book in his hands and holding it up like a shield.

"Because I couldn't dream of a better mate," Keith replied simply, which only made Lance's head spin more with the implications. 'Isn't mating like marriage for Galra,' he thought in panic.

Suddenly, a figure appeared behind Keith's back, looking over both of them. Lance almost shrieked but then realised it was Ryan.

"Excuse me," Ryan said evenly, making Keith look behind and step aside. "I just remembered I promised James to come by and see him after his detention. I'm sure it'll take me a while," he continued, inching past Lance who stood stock still and hot all over with mortification. "Have a good evening," he nodded at them and was on his way.

"Oh man," Lance breathed out, thinking about how much Ryan must've heard.

"My manual," Keith said, turning Lance's attention back to himself. "You brought it back," he sounded sheepish and Lance guessed it was because he realised his little lie had been found out.

"Yeah, I thought you might still need it, you know, for studying," Lance said, trying to get back at least some of his usual cheekiness.

"I do, thanks," here Lance was expecting Keith to take the book, but he stepped back into the room and turned his head in an inviting gesture.

Lance hesitated a moment, wondering if staying alone with Keith right now really was the best idea. Then again, he had never been particularly good at playing it safe.

'This is going to be one hell of an evening,' Lance thought, walking in.


End file.
